


The Unscene

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-27 21:53:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5065732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of scenes during and between episodes in season 6 and 7 in an effort to depict how Mulder and Scully moved from friends to lovers.  It begins where it ends, in all things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Since we've never gotten any clear answer on it, for the purposes of this story, the events in Per Manum are placed just prior to Field Trip.

**April 10, 2000 4:08 a.m.**

 

Scully quietly pulled the door closed to Mulder’s apartment and then leaned back against the wall.  You’re a coward, Dana Scully, she told herself. Running away, yet again, when you told yourself you wouldn’t; when you told him you _wouldn’t._   Sneaking out before the sun even rises, nonetheless.  With a sigh, she dropped her head and pressed her finger and thumb against her closed eyes and then pinched them together at the bridge of her nose.

 

**April 23, 1999 7: 57 p.m.**

 

Scully quietly closed the door to her apartment. Mulder immediately sprang up from the couch, mumbling something about falling asleep, but she wasn’t quite listening. She was afraid to speak lest her voice falter and betray the stoicism she was trying so hard to convey. She tried to smile, but her lips pulled into a frown and her chin quivered.  Mulder sighed and pulled her towards him.  Her throat burned, but she managed to whisper, “it was my last chance,” to him before the tears began to fall.  Seconds later, she felt Mulder’s lips against her forehead and she tried to shrug the pain away with a frustrated sigh.

 

“Never give up on a miracle,” Mulder said, and Scully nearly let out a sob.  Instead, she blindly pressed her lips to Mulder’s jaw and then let him wrap his arms around her again.  Tentatively, she snaked an arm around his waist and rested her other hand on his shoulder.

 

Scully reveled in the comfort she felt from Mulder’s tight embrace. Normally, she would not allow herself to take a moment from him like this, but the heartbreak of loss lowered her defenses. Her brain still gave her all sorts of warnings, but she closed her ears to them.  Tell him you’re fine, Dana.  Tell him to go home.  He can’t be here to see you fall apart.  Send him home. But, this feels good, her heart argued. This feels right. Let him hold you. You want it.  He wants to.  It feels good. You need this.

 

Overwhelmed, Scully began to cry with soft, whimpering sobs.  Mulder stroked her hair, turning her head for her so that her cheek was against his chest and she wasn’t suffocating in his shoulder.  Her hand slipped down and her fingers snagged in the collar of his sweater. Her nails lightly scratched his chest and she pressed her palm over his heart.  She tried to feel it beating against her hand, but she felt nothing, and it made her cry just a little harder.

 

Mulder covered Scully’s hand with his own, rubbing his thumb up and down along her ring finger while his other hand made slow circles against her back.  Occasionally he whispered her name, paused his circles to brush the tears from her cheek and tucked the hair behind her ear that kept falling into her face.

 

Gradually, Scully’s sobs lessened and her tears became a trickle instead of a steady stream.  She felt light-headed, woozy, a little drunk and emotionally exhausted.  Mulder stopped rubbing her back and moved his arm across her to squeeze her shoulder.  “Have you eaten?” he asked.  “I can make you something.”  Scully shook her head and looked up at him.  She was surprised at the pain and sadness she saw there. Slowly, she wiggled her fingers out from under Mulder’s hand and reached up to touch his face.

 

For the hundredth time since she’d left the doctor’s office, Scully began to cry again, silently this time.  Hot, salty tears spilled out from her eyes and dripped from her cheeks. In all the careful consideration she’d thought she’d given about what it meant to ask Mulder if he’d help her do this, it strangely never occurred to her that if it failed, it would be a loss for him as well.  Mulder was trying in vain to wipe her tears off her cheeks, but they were too fast and too strong for him to keep up with.

 

“I’m sorry,” Scully whispered.

 

“Oh, Scully,” Mulder murmured. “Don’t apologize. Not for this.”

 

“Why do I feel like I can’t keep my eyes open?”

 

“You’re tired,” he said, turning her away from him just a little so she wouldn’t stumble as he led her into her room. The blinds were open, allowing enough moonlight into the room for Mulder to turn down the bed, although Scully resisted when he moved away from her, tugging on his hand. He stopped, brought her knuckles up to his mouth for a moment and then disentangled their fingers. When he turned back to her, her head was down and her suit jacket was off and she was unbuttoning her shirt. He took her shoulders, wanting to stop her, but not wanting to stop her at the same time.

 

“Scully, I’ll…”

 

Scully looked up, working out the last of the two buttons at the bottom of her shirt.  The room may have been dark, but she knew it was bright enough for Mulder to see her. And she knew by his stillness and sudden silence that she was scaring him.  Regardless, she shrugged his hands off her shoulders and slipped her shirt off, flinging it back onto the chair behind her. Without giving Mulder a chance to rationalize with her, she stepped up against him, placing her forehead against his chest and her hands on his sides.

 

“Scully,” Mulder whispered.  His hands hovered over her hips, but he was afraid to touch her. “You’re tired and upset.”

 

“I know I am.”  She nodded against his chest.  The heat from Mulder’s fingertips drove her crazy.  She wished he would just put his hands on her and trust her and not be so afraid.  “That doesn’t mean I’m not thinking clearly,” she answered, brushing her nose against the softness of his sweater.  Finally, very hesitantly, Mulder placed his hands on her waist.  Scully sighed.

 

“Take your shirt off,” Scully said. “Please.”

 

Mulder leaned away from Scully and she took half a step back from him, grasping his sweater in both hands. She tipped her face up to his and for a long time he stared directly into her eyes while she used every bit of strength she had in her not to look away.  His gaze was so intense, so bright, and so full of love and concern, it was almost painful for her to take.

 

Finally, Mulder pulled his sweater from her hands and lifted it up and over his head, along with the t-shirt underneath. He put his hands on her waist again, after tossing his clothes to the side, and she took a step forward. She ran her fingertips down from his shoulders, over his pectorals, to the ridges of his abdomen. His muscles clenched as he sucked in a breath.

 

Curving her hands around Mulder’s sides, Scully moved up on her toes.  She still couldn’t quite reach his mouth.  “Mulder,” she whispered, reaching up to wrap her hand around his neck and urge him to meet her mouth in a soft kiss.  She pressed her lips a little harder against his and stretched her neck a little further, but then she pulled away and brought her heels back to the floor and her forehead back to Mulder’s chest.  Oddly relieved, Mulder rubbed her shoulders soothingly.

 

Scully took a moment to catch her breath. She hadn’t expected to feel the way she did when she kissed him.  It was like an electric shock had run through her body from head to toe. Her pulse quickened and a dull ache took residence between her thighs. She wasn’t stupid, she knew what she was doing would inevitably lead to arousal, but didn’t expect to happen so easily. Not when less than five minutes ago she had been sobbing on Mulder’s shoulder.  Emboldened, she reached for the snap on Mulder’s jeans.

 

Mulder jerked in surprise.  He gently squeezed Scully’s arms, but she already had the zipper of his pants undone.  “Scully,” he said. Mulder was apprehensive. He always assumed this would happen for them, but not quite this way.  It felt so right to kiss her and it felt so right to touch her, but the timing still felt all wrong to him.

 

“If you’re going to tell me I don’t really want this,” Scully said, her voice low and quiet.  “You’re wrong.”

 

Against his better judgment, Mulder stepped out of his shoes and pushed his jeans off over his hips.  Scully asked so little of him. He was actually more afraid of the emotional repercussions of not trusting her judgment than finally being able to physically express his feelings for her before either one of them might be ready.  And, he told himself, she could change her mind at any time.  They didn’t have to do this.

 

Scully’s heart thumped rapidly against her chest. Mulder had managed to switch their positions and sat her down on the bed.  Kneeling before her, he unzipped her boots, removed her socks, and then lightly gripped the tops of her feet, swirling his thumbs around her ankles as he looked at her. Scully unbuttoned her pants and shimmied them down her hips, letting Mulder take over to slip them down her legs and drop them to the floor.

 

Mulder ran his hands along the sides of Scully’s bare legs and over the tops of her thighs.  He stood and then pressed one knee to the bed, guiding Scully back towards the headboard.  Hovering over her, moving slowly, he crawled up the bed, giving her time to stop him, but Scully reached for him and he eased his hips down into the space she’d made between her thighs.  Stop me, Scully, he thought, even as his lips touched her neck and he breathed her in.  

 

Don’t stop, Scully thought to herself, whatever you do, Mulder, please don’t stop.  She brought her hands to Mulder’s head, bringing him up to meet her mouth. Their kiss was better this time around, more meaningful.  Their mouths had opened before their lips had even touched and they’d both held still, breathing softly against each other before closing the gap.  Her tongue slid against his and his against hers. She could feel Mulder responding to her and it gave her a thrill to know she had done that.

 

Mulder told himself to go slow, so when he accidentally grazed Scully’s breast on the way to touch her face, he quickly diverted his hand back to her waist.  She sighed into his mouth and somehow, by an act of magic, her bra was suddenly gone and Scully was pressing his hand against her bare breast.   She seemed to hold him there until she was sure he would stay so he gave her a reassuring squeeze. 

 

Unconsciously, Scully arched her back and released Mulder’s hand to hold on to his arms.  She turned out of their kiss and whispered his name before biting her lip. Mulder moved on from her mouth to her neck and down to her exposed breast, his tongue drawing circles around her nipple.  The foreplay was too much for her to handle.  It started to make her tense instead of loose and pliant.  “Stop,” she whispered.

 

Mulder immediately froze, pressing his body up from hers. He struggled not to touch her, propped up on his hands, started to back away, but she shook her head and grabbed on to him, squeezing his elbows. “No, no,” she said.  “I don’t mean stop, I’m sorry.  I meant…I just…”

 

Mulder bent his neck, touching his forehead to hers. “We don’t have to do this,” he whispered, brushing his nose against hers very softly.

 

“Mulder,” she whispered back, trying to catch his lips.

 

Mulder continued to give her light Eskimo kisses until Scully released her grip on his arms and then reached down between them to slide her fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs. “I don’t want to stop,” she whispered, easing the shorts down his hips and carefully over his erection. “Don’t stop.”

 

Mulder moved off of Scully to his hip, kicking his underwear to the floor.  He put his hand on Scully’s stomach and briefly wondered what it would feel like if there were a baby growing inside her.  He knew, even if the in vitro had worked, it would be impossible at this stage to feel much of anything, but still he wondered.  He circled her navel with his thumb and smiled a little when her stomach clenched and she squirmed slightly.

 

“Mulder,” Scully said, and he heard the impatience in her voice.  Cautiously, he moved his hand lower, barely brushing the lace trim of her panties. Scully squirmed again, but this time she rubbed her thighs together and gasped quietly. Mulder traced the panty-line from her hip to the inside of her thigh.  He heard the change in her breathing immediately. 

 

Before sliding Scully’s panties down her legs, Mulder leaned over to kiss her again.  This kiss was deeper and wetter and harder than any of the kisses before it; a prelude of what was to come.  He moved back between Scully’s legs at her insistent pull and held himself steady over her on his hands.

 

Unable to wait any longer, Scully took Mulder in hand, guiding him to her.  Consummation took more than one try and a little fumbling.  There was still hesitance on Mulder’s part and a bit of resistance from muscle and flesh that had forgotten what penetration was like on Scully’s end. There was a sting. Pain, but not pain; like a burn, but not a burn. She sucked in a breath, closed her eyes, heart pounding.

 

Scully looped her arms around Mulder’s back, hot and slippery with sweat.  She knew it was not from any force of exertion, but the strength it took for him to move so slowly against her, letting her relax and acclimate to him. The burn slowly turned from pain to need and as her thighs loosened, she rocked into his slow, steady thrusts, gasping for breath along the way.  As they found a rhythm, she slipped her hands down Mulder’s back to catch his hips and curve her fingers over the swell of his buttocks.

 

Jesus, Mulder thought, and his brain fired off a litany of nonsense.  Scully. Hot. Wet.  Hurt?  God. Go slow.  Hurting you?  Scully. Tight.  Jesus.  Slow down. Scully.  I love you too much.  Scullyscullyscullyscullyscullyscullyscully. He felt Scully’s fingers dig into him with purpose, but it was too soon and he was too close. She urged him deeper, but he knew he couldn’t last that way and he wanted to make sure this experience was going to be better than just okay for her.  He tried to change positions, but Scully thwarted his attempts by gripping his hips with her knees and pressing against his tailbone.  To her dismay, he slowed his thrusts to an almost complete stop. She groaned in frustration.

 

“Tell me what I can do,” he said.

 

“Do?” 

 

“What do you need?”

 

“I’m fine,” Scully panted softly, out of breath.

 

“Scully,” Mulder whispered.  “Tell me.”

 

“Let me move my legs back,” she said quietly.

 

Mulder cupped the back of Scully’s thigh and pushed her leg up as he gave an experimental thrust.  She cried out very softly and grabbed at his arm. He managed to bring her leg up further so that his shoulder pressed against the back of her knee. On her own, Scully lifted her other leg and hooked the back of her calf over Mulder’s hip.  Her toes tingled and her thighs burned, but the first stirrings of pleasurable release had started and there was determination in Mulder’s precision-like strokes.  She tilted her hips down under him and then gasped.

 

“There?” Mulder asked.

 

“Yes,” she answered, feeling the sweat drop from Mulder’s shoulders onto her chest. She knew Mulder was holding out for her and she didn’t want him to fight it any longer.  She took his face between her hands and lifted her head, immediately pressing her lips to his and sliding her tongue into his mouth. Mulder groaned and his hips slammed into hers roughly.  Warmth spread across her hips and through her pelvis.  She whispered Mulder’s name against his lips and held on tightly as his body shuddered against hers.

 

Scully stroked Mulder’s arms, waiting for her heart rate to settle.  Slowly, she eased her heels to the bed and slid her legs down, thighs sensuously brushing Mulder’s hips on the way there.  He pulled his head up and looked down at her.  I love you, Scully, he thought, gazing down at her and trying to see her face in the shadows. I love you more than you can imagine and if they missed just one little egg, let me find it. Please tell me we made a miracle here tonight.  I’ll do anything.

 

Reluctantly, Mulder lifted his weight off of Scully and rolled over onto his back.  Flush with heat and sweat, as soon as Mulder lifted his body off of hers, Scully shivered from the loss.  Her thighs felt embarrassingly wet and sticky.  She felt so lethargic that it was struggle for her to try to sit up. Mulder turned to look at her, concerned.

 

“Scully?”

 

“I need to,” Scully said.  “Um…”

 

“Oh.  Stay here.”

 

Mulder was out of bed in a flash and Scully moved up on her elbows, listening to him fumble around in her bathroom. In only a few minutes he was back in her room, handing her a warm washcloth.  “Thank you,” she said, quietly, and Mulder left again as she cleaned herself up.

 

“I got you a glass of water,” Mulder said, padding back into the room with two glasses of water.  He set one of the glasses down on the nightstand and took the washcloth from Scully’s hand.  Scully took notice that he seemed at ease walking around her apartment completely nude and it probably had nothing to do with the semi-darkness of the room. She didn’t even walk around her apartment without a robe on at the very least.

 

“Mulder,” Scully said, stopping him before he left the room again.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Are you leaving?”

 

“Going back to the bathroom.  Why?”

 

“You can stay here,” she answered, flicking her eyes to the empty side of the bed and then back to him.

 

Mulder paused, sipping his water and rubbing the balled up washcloth with his thumb.  He was elated by the offer, but he wished Scully had said she’d wanted him to stay and not just that it was okay if he did.  He wanted to stay, though, for as long as she would let him. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

 

Scully reached over and took the glass of water off her nightstand.  She took a few long drinks and then sat back against the headboard.  Mulder was back in no time and he slid into bed to sit beside her. She suddenly felt a little nervous, being so exposed and close.

 

“Tired?” Mulder asked.

 

“I’m fine,” she answered. She knew it was the wrong thing to say. And she knew Mulder knew she was lying. The silence that followed was deafening. It made her afraid that he might leave and she really wanted him to stay.

 

“Well,” Mulder finally said, sliding down the bed and laying on his back.  “I think I’m going to try to get some sleep.”

 

It was a few moments before Scully joined him, lying on her back and shifting to situate her head on her pillow. She usually slept on her side, facing the side of the bed that Mulder was on, but she didn’t feel quite comfortable with that.  The room was quiet, save for the soft sounds of their breathing.  She could feel the heat of him where their shoulders almost met in the middle of the bed.  Her body seemed to be acutely aware of his and it wouldn’t let her settle.

 

Scully turned her head and looked at Mulder. His eyes were closed and his lips were slightly parted.  He breathed steadily, but she knew he wasn’t asleep.  Sleep never came that easy to him.  Tentatively, Scully rolled towards him, sliding her arm over his waist and resting her head on his shoulder.

 

Mulder could’ve cried for joy as he moved his arm around Scully’s shoulders, gently pulling her to his side. He angled his head just a little so that his chin touched the top of her head.  When he moved his head down even more, his lips grazed her forehead.

 

Tell him you love him, Scully told herself. Stop being such a coward and tell him.  She stared at Mulder’s chest, her heart pounding.  “Mulder?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Good night,” she whispered, after a long silence.

 

“Night, Scully.”

 

**April 24, 1999 6:22 a.m.**

 

Scully woke to the pitter patter of rain. It seemed like it had rained every morning for the past week.  She lifted her head from Mulder’s chest, surprised that she hadn’t moved in her sleep. Mulder was breathing deeply, his head tipped away from her and his mouth slack.  Carefully and quietly, wincing when stiff muscles protested, she slipped out of bed.

 

Fortunately, Scully’s robe was hanging at the back of her door.  She didn’t feel like taking the chance at opening her dresser drawers to find something to wear. She left the door ajar as she left and headed to the kitchen.

 

It had been a few months since Scully had coffee, on her doctors’ orders.  That issue was now moot, and she figured that Mulder would probably appreciate a cup when he woke up.  She prepared the coffee maker and watched as the coffee began to drip into the pot. Her thoughts returned to the previous night and she waited for Mulder to wake up.

 

“Good morning,” Mulder said quietly, rubbing the back of his head as he shuffled into the kitchen.

 

Scully jumped, surprised.  The coffee pot was full and had been for quite some time it seemed. The pot was still warm, but it had cooled some since finishing its cycle.  She turned around.  Mulder was bare-foot and bare-chested, jeans on, thankfully, but unbuttoned at the top. “Good morning.” She returned his greeting and then turned back to the coffeemaker, switching it off and reaching into the cabinet above to pull down the cups.

 

“Smells good,” Mulder said.

 

“It’s just coffee.”

 

“It has a coffee smell.”

 

Scully smiled a little as she poured out the cups and brought Mulder’s to the table where he’d taken a seat. “I have some bagels I was going to toast.  Would you like one?”

 

“Is there cream cheese?”

 

“In the refrigerator.”

 

“ _Real_ cream cheese?”

 

Scully smiled again as she sliced two poppy seed bagels in half.  “There might be.” She popped the bagel slices into the toaster oven and then brought her coffee over to the table and sat down across from him.  They sat silently, sipping their coffee until the toaster oven dinged and Scully got up to retrieve them. She brought them to the table on a plate and added a small tub of cream cheese and a knife to the mix. Mulder gleefully spread a generous helping of cream cheese on a bagel half and took a bite.

 

“Mulder, I want to apologize to you.”

 

Mulder swallowed heavily and braced himself. He’d been disappointed when he woke to find himself alone, but hopeful at Scully’s easy demeanor. She’d smiled, twice, even if it was very slight.  “For what?” he mumbled, not quite done chewing his bagel.

 

“You were afraid that things would change between us. I promised you...I told you it wouldn’t.”

 

“Scully, I told you I didn’t want it to come between us.  There’s a difference.”

 

Scully lowered her eyes and ran her finger over the rim of her coffee cup.  “I just want you to know, this doesn’t have to change things.”

 

“Maybe change is a good thing.”

 

“What if it isn’t?”

 

Mulder breathed harshly through his nose, frustrated. “What did you expect would happen?”

 

“I wasn’t really thinking about the morning after.”

 

“I’m not talking about the sex.”

 

“Then what are you talking about?”

 

“I’m asking you what thought would happen if you had walked through that door last night pregnant.”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Bull shit, Mulder thought.  Scully, organized and thorough, who plans for every detail, who until she invited him into her bed last night, the most spontaneous thing Mulder had every seen her do was order pie a la mode at a roadside diner. He did not want to be angry with her though. 

 

“Scully, if you really don’t want things to change, I’ll respect your wishes.  I can’t promise I won’t be disappointed, but I’ll respect it.  But, if you’re trying to give me an out because you’re afraid of what happened last night, I won’t accept it.”

 

Scully held her breath.  Trust Mulder to read her like an open book. She was afraid of changing things between them.  They still had so much to do together to risk falling apart.  Last night she had felt ready for it, this morning she just felt wary. “I don’t want things to change,” she said.

 

Mulder suppressed the flare of anger he felt. He expected a bit of a protest from Scully when it came to her fears, but he did not expect her to lie to him.

 

“But,” Scully started, and Mulder perked up a little, hope glittering in his eyes.  “I want to thank you.”

 

“For what?” Mulder asked, cocking his head.

 

“Last night.”

 

The silence that followed was so thick that it seemed that the air had left the room.  Suddenly, feeling a little sick, Mulder put down the half of his uneaten bagel and wiped his mouth.  Scully looked up at him, her forehead wrinkled and her eyes wet.

 

“I should go,” Mulder said.

 

“You don’t have to.”

 

Yes I do, Mulder thought.  I have to leave because right now I can’t look at you. “I need to get dressed.”

 

Scully put her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her hands.  Damn, she thought. Damn. Damn. Damn. She waited for Mulder to return, unsure if it would be wise to follow him back to her bedroom and try to explain herself a little better.  She stood and tightened her robe a little more when she heard Mulder in the living area. He was shrugging on his jacket, his back to her.

 

“Mulder?”

 

“I’ll see you Monday, Scully. Have a nice weekend.”

 

“Mulder, wait.”

 

“I’m sorry, but no,” he answered, moving past her to the door and then pausing.  “Just so you know, I’d do it again in a heartbeat, Scully. I still would.” With that he was gone, and Scully closed her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**May 3, 2015 3:39 p.m.**

 

Mulder tipped his head up to look for Scully. His skin burned so badly he felt like it might just fall off and it hurt to open his eyes, but it also hurt to have them closed so it made no difference to find her in the corner of his blurry vision.  It had been a hard week for them, very tense and a little awkward, but they put their feelings aside to focus on the case.  He reached his hand out for Scully, ignoring the pain the movement brought. He needed to know she was all right.

 

Without opening her eyes, Scully moved her hand out, touching his fingers softly.  Mulder grabbed on to her and gave her a squeeze.  The tips of his fingers throbbed and he was pretty sure hers did as well.  The jarring motion of the ambulance ride made him cringe, but he didn’t want to let go of her.

 

“Scully?” he said.

 

“I’m okay, Mulder.”

 

Mulder blinked at her and then had to shut his eyes. The burn was too powerful. He listened to Scully breathe, focusing only on the raspy way she exhaled like she was consciously making an effort to control her oxygen flow.  He curled his fingers a little more, wanting to pull her to him, but knowing it was impossible.

 

“Are we okay?” he asked, squinting his eyes open at her.

 

Scully turned her head ever so slightly, face contorting with pain.  She opened her eyes a fraction and stared at Mulder with a watery gaze. “We’re okay,” she answered.

 

Mulder held her hand until the back of the ambulance was opened and the paramedics pulled their gurneys out into the light.

**June 1, 1999 7:13 p.m.**

Mulder tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel, trying not to be too obvious at the glances he kept stealing to the passenger side of the car.  Scully had been acting weird all day.  He thought it might have been the rough flight out to Phoenix and her proclivity to airsickness, but the effects of which usually wore off by the time they picked up a rental car. Two hours into their drive and Scully still seemed like she was suffering in some way. 

 

Scully’s head throbbed painfully. She had woken up with a headache and a sharp pain between her shoulder blades that she couldn’t shake. By the time they had boarded their flight to Phoenix, her entire back was aching from the tension. The Dramamine she took on the plane made her feel drowsy, but didn’t help prevent the nausea that came with the turbulence.  The turbulence ended with the flight, but the nausea lingered.

 

“How much longer, do you think?” Scully asked.

 

“Forty-five minutes, maybe,” Mulder answered. “Supposed to take about three hours to get there.”

 

“Do you think you could stop at the next gas station?”

 

“Sure.”  Mulder reached over and adjusted the air conditioner, taking a surreptitious glance at Scully’s face as he pretended to check the airflow. “You okay?”

 

Scully could lie and tell Mulder she was fine, but she knew it was too obvious that she wasn’t herself.  “Not feeling very well, I guess.”

 

Mulder sat back, surprised.  He twisted his arm and put his hand against Scully’s forehead. Despite her current state, he saw her smile a little.  He put his hand back on the steering wheel.  “Sign back there said gas, food, lodging five miles.”

 

“That’s fine.”

 

Mulder pulled into the gas station and cut the engine at an empty pump.  He figured he might as well fill the tank while Scully was in the attached mini-mart. She still hadn’t returned by the time he’d finished pumping the gas so he cleaned the windows to pass the time. When Scully still hadn’t returned, he moved the car into one of the parking spots and went into the mini-mart. He couldn’t find Scully in any of the aisles and he felt a bit of a panic come on.  He was about to flash his badge to the clerk when he saw her emerge from one of the back restrooms.  Relief washed over Mulder, but he masked his concern and turned away from Scully to pretend to search for a bag of sunflower seeds.

 

“Mulder?”

 

“Hey, thought I’d get a bag of seeds for the road.”

 

“I got you some.”  Scully lifted a plastic bag in her hand and inclined her head towards the door.

 

“You did?”

 

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

 

Mulder led Scully back to the car, his hand on the small of her back.  When they were seated again, Scully handed him the bag of sunflower seeds and then pulled out a bottle of water.  As Mulder was buckling his seatbelt, he caught a glimpse of a box of tampons remaining in Scully’s bag and it stopped him short.  He looked over her, biting his lip.

 

Scully gazed out the window at the desert landscape, taking a sip from her water bottle.  She wondered why Mulder hadn’t started the car yet and when she looked over at him, he was staring at her feet.

 

“Mulder?”

 

Mulder cut his eyes away from the bag at Scully’s feet, but he couldn’t help but return to it.  “I’m sorry,” he said with a sigh.

 

Scully tracked his gaze and then sighed as well. They’d spent too much time traveling together and in cramped quarters for Scully to feel any embarrassment at Mulder knowing that she’d gotten her period, but this was the first time she’d had to deal with it since the night they spent together and she knew what he was thinking because she’d been thinking the same thing ten minutes earlier. Scully reached over and put her fingers on Mulder’s wrist, very lightly. 

 

“So am I,” she murmured, staring at his arm.

 

For a few moments, Mulder rubbed his teeth against his bottom lip.  “I’d hoped…I’m sorry, I know that’s probably stupid of me, but I’d hoped…”

 

“I know.”  Tears gathered in Scully’s eyes and she turned her head away from Mulder, but gave his wrist a squeeze.  “I did too,” she whispered, her throat pinched with emotion.

 

Mulder unlatched his seatbelt and turned his body towards her.  He took her hand from his wrist and laced their fingers together.  When she still didn’t look at him, he touched her chin lightly. Scully shifted her eyes and when she blinked he saw two tears fall from her lashes.

 

“Scully?”

 

“What, Mulder?”

 

“If you ever want to try again, you just say the word.”

 

Scully closed her eyes and blew out a long breath. She turned towards Mulder as well and put a hand on his face.  If only it had worked.  There was no one in the world she would rather have as the father of her child. One day she’d be able to tell him so.

 

“You can drive now,” Scully said. “I’m okay.”

 

Mulder nodded and pulled Scully’s hand to his mouth to kiss her palm, lingering a little longer than he probably should. He latched his seatbelt and started the car.  Scully looked out the window at the setting sun.

**September 4, 1999 9:03 p.m.**

 

Scully sat at Mulder’s bedside, stroking his hand. She was exhausted and emotional. It felt like it had been months since she’d gone to Africa, when really it had only been a week. She hadn’t expected to return to this. She was hoping she’d find Mulder out of the hospital, not catatonic. 

 

After expending all her energy on pleading with Mulder to hang on, she sat back and just stroked his hand, praying. Dear God, please don’t take him away from me.  Not now. Not when we’re so close. I need him.

 

I can hear you, Scully.  Mulder fought his brain for control over his body. He tried to blink, to move his hand, to kick his foot, anything to let her know he was listening. God dammit, I’m trying. I’m trying, Scully. I’m trapped in my own head and I can’t get out, but I can hear you.  I need you too.

 

Scully sighed.  I should’ve told him I loved him.  I should’ve told him I loved him that night.  I should’ve told him before that night.  I should’ve told him any number of times this summer. And now…

 

I know, Scully.  I know.

 

God, if you’re listening, I’ll do anything if you just bring him back to me.  Just give me a sign that he’ll be all right.  Please.

 

Mulder screamed her name in his head.

 

Scully closed her eyes and let her tears flow freely. She was too tired to care any more. Still clutching his hand, she laid her head down on Mulder’s chest, watching the strong, steady peaks of his heart monitor.  It gave her hope. God, Mulder, nothing scares me more than the possibility of losing you.

 

Scully, I know.  I know, I know, I know.  Don’t give up on me, Scully.  Don’t give up on us.

 

“Pull through for me, Mulder,” she whispered. “I’m still waiting for that miracle. I haven’t given up.”

 

I haven’t given up either, Scully. Just get me out of here and we can try again.  We can try again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again…

 

**September 12, 1999 1:19 p.m.**

 

Mulder listened to Scully walking away from him down his hall and thought back on the pervading dream of the boy on the beach. He’d been over it many times in his head, analyzing the meaning of it and why he held on to it so hard in the middle of his ordeal.  At first he thought of the boy as a manifestation of his desire to procreate. But, he’d spent more than enough time daydreaming about what his future would look like if he and Scully had been successful at making a baby and that was not the son he envisioned. Boy or girl, they were all blue eyes and freckles and happiness, not the dark, brooding and angry child in this vision.

 

So Mulder dug deeper and he’d come to the conclusion that his subconscious had created a scenario in which his metaphoric inner child was sending him a message.  Maybe the message was that he needed to come to terms with the fact that his search for the truth was the equivalent of building sandcastles in the surf, or in his case, sand spaceships.  All his efforts were constantly washed away with a high tide.

 

Closing his eyes, Mulder looked back in on the boy. They were helping each other dig and carve the lines of the spaceship while waves lapped at their feet. Where it was once cloudy and grey, it was now sunny.  Mulder could almost feel the warmth on his back.  He looked up, past the boy, and suddenly there was Scully, on her knees in the sand, holding a shovel and a pail.

 

“Scully,” Mulder called, leaving the boy behind to come over to her.  She was wearing a long, white skirt that billowed in the wind as she stood.  Her hair was longer than he’d ever seen it, past her shoulders. She shielded her eyes from the sun and smiled at him.

 

“Are we finished here?” Scully asked.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“We’ve been at this for awhile.” Scully looked down and waved the shovel near their feet.  Mulder saw that there were elaborately designed etchings in the sand where they stood and from this perspective, he could see that the half-formed spacecraft that had been in his mind was actually fully realized.

 

“Did you do this?” Mulder asked.

 

“We did it.”

 

Mulder picked up Scully’s hand and took the shovel from her, tossing it away.  Her hands were dirty and there was sand under her fingernails and blood in her cuticles. He brushed it all away as best he could and lowered his head while bringing her knuckles up to his mouth.

 

“You’ve been here this whole time?” he asked.

 

“Where else would I be, Mulder?”

 

Mulder lifted his head.  “Do you want to be here, Scully?”  Scully didn’t answer.  She blinked at him and her hair blew across her cheeks in the wind. Mulder looked back towards the boy, but he was gone.  The waves crashed against the front of the spaceship, but the sand stayed intact against the surf. He looked back to Scully and she was looking up at him expectantly.

 

“I think my spaceship is finished,” Mulder said.

 

“Our spaceship.”

 

“I didn’t think you believed in spaceships, Scully.”

 

“I believe in you.”

 

“Are you just waiting for all this to be over? Is that what’s holding you back?”

 

Scully said nothing and Mulder realized that he would never be able to answer these questions for her, not even in his subconscious. He opened his eyes and stepped back into his apartment, slowly shutting the door.  It was high time he thought about the direction his life was taking and if he was still on the road he wanted to be.

 

**October 13, 1999 7:35 p.m.**

 

Mulder toed off his shoes and flopped down on the hotel bed.  His jacket was off, his tie was loosened, and he worked on unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves and rolling them up as soon as he had the TV on.  A commercial for life insurance was on and he found it extremely depressing.

 

There was a knock on his door and Mulder froze for a moment and then got up from the bed.  He took a moment to glance through the peephole and then opened the door for Scully, who had her back to him.

 

“Forget something?” Mulder asked.

 

Scully turned, her hand cupped over the flame of a tiny blue and white swirled candle pushed deeply into the center of a Twinkie. The Twinkie itself was sitting on the palm of her hand under a cocktail napkin.  She was smiling.  “I didn’t forget at all,” she said, cautiously moving her hand away from the candle, but still shielding the flame as it flickered.  “Make a wish before the wind makes it for you.”

 

Mulder held Scully’s hand away from the flame as he leaned over and blew out the candle.  He pulled her inside his room and shut the door.  He noticed she hadn’t yet changed out of the dark slacks and blazer she’d worn all day and he was touched that she’d forgone getting comfortable just to bring him a birthday Twinkie.  Turning off the TV, he sat down on the side of the bed.

 

“I was considering take-out before you knocked,” Mulder said.  “Any suggestions?”

 

“I was considering a shower to get the smell of interrogations and fried grease off of me.”

 

“Well _now_ it’s a birthday party,” Mulder stood and waggled his brows, unbuttoning the top of his shirt.  Scully raised her brow. “Oh, that wasn’t an invitation?” he asked.

 

“I’m going to go shower and change,” Scully answered. “Alone.”

 

“Oh.  Well good night then.  Thanks for the Twinkie.” Mulder glanced at the dessert that Scully had put on the table by the door.

 

“Don’t be obtuse, Mulder, it doesn’t suit you. Order something good, I’ll be back.”

 

Mulder smiled when Scully shut the door behind her. He was just going to order pizza for himself, but if Scully wanted to celebrate his birthday with him, he wanted to make it worth her while.  On their way in, he’d seen a sushi restaurant a few blocks away, so he grabbed the keys to the rental car and put his shoes back on.

 

By the time Scully knocked on his door again, Mulder had a whole assortment of sushi rolls and sashimi laid out in plastic containers on the table.  He’d also picked up a bottle of wine from a liquor store that was just a few steps away from the sushi restaurant.  He hoped Scully would be pleased.

 

“Mulder, what is all this?” Scully asked, investigating the containers on the table as she sat down in the chair Mulder had pulled out for her.

 

“It’s my birthday feast.”

 

“Here I was expecting the meat lovers special with extra sausage.”

 

“There’s still time,” Mulder answered, slowly and dramatically reaching over Scully for the phone book.

 

“Don’t you dare!” Scully pushed Mulder’s arm away with enough force to put him down in the chair next to her. He chuckled and she smiled, looking down at her lap for a moment with a slight blush.

 

“I see a salmon roll with your name on it, Scully.”

 

“Do you?”

 

Mulder popped the lid off one of the containers. “Ginger, yes, wasabi, no, right? Soy sauce, maybe, chopsticks, always.”

 

“You think you know me so well, do you?”

 

“Am I wrong?”  Mulder cocked his head as he clumsily grappled with a dragon roll and his chopsticks.

 

“No, you’re not wrong.”  Scully shook her head and unwrapped her chopsticks. She knocked Mulder’s sticks aside and deftly separated the roll to put it on his plate.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Scully inspected the assortment of choices before her and snagged a few rolls for her plate.  She arranged them to her liking and added a bit of ginger to the mix, but decided she was not in the mood for the soy sauce.  She smiled in amusement as she watched Mulder attempt to drag a roll from his plate to his mouth without twisting his chopsticks.

 

“Here,” Scully said, handing him one of the plastic forks that was lying on the table.  “Stop torturing yourself.”

 

“Sure I won’t be breaking any cardinal rules?”

 

“It’s your birthday, you shouldn’t starve.”

 

“Oh!”  Mulder took the fork and stabbed it into one of his rolls.  “Wine.  I got wine.”

 

“You really outdid yourself, Mulder.”

 

“I did, didn’t I?”  Mulder grinned and opened up the bottle of wine.  The only glasses in the room were the plastic cups, wrapped in plastic, stacked next to the ice bucket on the vanity counter. He ripped off the plastic wrapping with his teeth for both cups and handed one to Scully after he poured.

 

“We should toast,” Scully said, as Mulder sat back down.

 

“Okay.”  He put his arm on the back of Scully’s chair and his other elbow on the table, holding his cup up.  “What do you want to toast?”

 

“To you.  Your birthday.”

 

“Boring.”

 

“Boring?  You have something better.”

 

“Yeah.  To us. To another year and the potential it has.”  Mulder tapped his cup against Scully’s and took a sip of his wine, but she did not.

 

“Potential for what?”

 

“Potential for…potential, Scully.”

 

“But what, exactly?” she asked, setting her cup on the table, but holding on to it.

 

“Maybe for things to change.”

 

Scully’s tongue clicked slightly with the sudden intake of air she took.  Her mouth opened and then closed just as quickly and she swallowed heavily. She blinked at the table as her vision went blurry and unfocused.

 

“Scully?”

 

“Why do you need things to change?” Scully said, quietly.

 

“Oh.”  Mulder set his cup of wine down on the table and grimaced.  “I’m sorry, Scully, that isn’t what I meant.”

 

Scully glanced at Mulder from the corner of her eye, tight-lipped. 

 

“I was talking about the possibility of being done with all of this,” he continued.  “I’m not quite sure what I’m looking for anymore.  The truth is just…sometimes it feels like I’m grasping at straws. I can uncover one layer, only to discover another and you know, Scully, there are only so many layers I can handle.”

 

“You want to quit?”

 

“No.  But, I would like some meaning out of it all.  I’d like…I don’t know, a happy ending.”

 

“What’s your idea of a happy ending?”

 

“I’m not supposed to tell you my wish, Scully, or it won’t come true,” he answered, glancing over at the Twinkie sitting on his nightstand.  “I can tell you the part that already has though.”

 

“What part is that?”

 

“You’re here.”

 

Scully closed her eyes.  She had to resist the feelings that washed over her when Mulder talked to her like this.  There were times that he spoke to her with such naked emotion that it set her heart pounding so hard she could hear it slamming against her chest.  Mulder touched her hair just then, sliding it back off her cheek and tucking it over her ear and she leaned into it like a cat arching its back under the stroke of a hand.

 

“Mulder, don’t say something like that to me.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because, I can’t…”

 

“Can’t what?”  Mulder swung his legs around and then turned Scully’s chair so she faced him. “Can’t what, Scully?”

 

Scully closed her eyes as Mulder took her face in his hands and her chin dropped to her chest.  She shook her head lightly, reaching up to hold on to his wrists. His thumbs stroked the apples of her cheeks, back and forth, very softly, trying to urge her to lift her head, to look at him.

 

“Why are you so afraid of us, Scully? Talk to me.”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“I don’t know is not a reason. Talk to me.”

 

“I’m afraid, Mulder, is that what you want to hear?”

 

“I know you are, I just want to know why.”

 

Scully shook her head and Mulder leaned in very close to her, taking one hand off her face and sliding it behind her neck so he could speak softly and directly into her ear.  His lips grazed the shell of her ear and she shivered. Heat rose through her body and she felt it bloom in her cheeks.

 

“I haven’t stopped thinking of the night we made love,” Mulder whispered.  “Not just because of how amazing we were together, because we were amazing together, and I’ve wanted to tell you that for months.  But, you always keep your heart so impossibly closed,” he said, trailing his fingers down her neck and resting his hand against the swell of her left breast. “And that night I felt like the door had opened enough to let me in, just for a little while. Now that I know how nice it is inside, I’ve just been waiting for an invitation to come back.”

 

Scully stared down the end of her nose at the back of Mulder’s jaw as he spoke to her.  His face was so close to hers she could smell the faint remnants of the aftershave he’d put on that morning and his five o’ clock shadow grazed her cheek. She was quite accustomed to his invasion of her personal space, especially when he wanted her attention, but there was a big difference between whisperings of case theories versus the conjuring of memories from a shared night of passion.  She knew Mulder had to hear her ragged breathing and feel the accelerated beat of her heart.

 

“I’m not gonna kick the door down, Scully,” he whispered.  “I’d much rather be given the key.”  With that, he started to pull away from her, but Scully grabbed the back of his head and he stayed where he was, breathing softly against her cheek and waiting.

 

“I don’t want the world to end,” she said.

 

“What if we can’t stop it?  Don’t we deserve a little happiness?  Otherwise what are we fighting for?”

 

“I mean our world.  The world of you and me.  I’d rather keep what we have than have nothing at all. I’d rather be partners than lovers because I’m afraid we can’t be both.  No matter how much I want…no matter how much I want you.”

 

“No matter how much we want each other,” Mulder corrected.

 

Scully gave a brief nod in agreement.

 

“So don’t you think things should change?” Mulder asked, pulling away from her to look into her eyes.  “Shouldn’t we be allowed to have what we both want?”

 

“In a perfect world, maybe.”

 

“No world is perfect and people do it every day. They get up, they go to work, they fall in love, they come home, and then they do it all over again. I’ve come to realize that participating in the things that make us happy is a choice as much as not participating in them is too.  I’d like to start making different choices and if you’re not ready, well then I choose to wait for you.”

 

Scully wished she was ready to say to hell with her fears and give in at that moment, but she just wasn’t. Mulder’s ambivalence towards his lifelong quest was not something new.  He’d had crises of faith before, only to return to his goals with renewed fervor once the right carrot had been dangled in front of his nose. She couldn’t trust that this wasn’t just another one of those moments for him and he only thought he wanted her more than he wanted the truth.

 

“Mulder, I…”

 

“Don’t.”  Mulder put two fingers gently against Scully’s lips.  “I told you I was looking forward to changes the year might bring, not overnight.”

 

“I’m sorry if I ruined your birthday.”

 

“It’s pretty much the best birthday I’ve ever had, Scully.”

 

“That can’t be true.”

 

“Well, one year I got a bike, and that was pretty cool.”  Mulder turned away from her then and picked up his fork.  “I can’t eat all this sushi by myself, Scully.”

 

Scully put her hand on the cup of wine, but instead of lifting it, she slid it towards Mulders and rested her cup against his. “To potential,” she said quietly.

 

“To potential.”  He nodded and they both took a drink.


	3. Chapter 3

**November 25, 1999 10:44 a.m.**

 

“Mulder,” he said into his cell phone, rubbing his eyes.

 

“You’re not still asleep, are you?” Scully asked.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane?” Mulder sat up quickly, swinging his feet over the side of the couch.  “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine.  I wanted to wish you a happy Thanksgiving.”

 

“Oh.  Well thanks, Scully.”

 

“Are you still planning on doing nothing?”

 

“A very full day of doing nothing. Of course, there might be the occasional break for snacks and then more nothing.”

 

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

 

“Why aren’t you on a plane, Scully?”

 

“Open the front door.”

 

Mulder looked toward his door and then got up from the couch.  He didn’t say anything, but when he opened the door, he clicked his flip phone closed and smiled. His smile faded rather quickly though.

 

“You’re supposed to be in San Diego,” Mulder said.

 

“I know,” Scully answered, holding up a grocery bag. “Can I come in?”

 

“Of course.”  Mulder held the door back and ushered her inside.  She moved past him and into his kitchen.  When she came back out, she was folding her overcoat over her arm and she fluffed the back of her hair by running her hand up her neck.

 

“I changed my mind,” Scully said.

 

“You just got here.”

 

Scully smiled and stepped closer to Mulder. She put a hand on his arm as she walked by and then hung her coat up on the rack by the door. “I changed my mind about San Diego,” she said, straightening and smoothing the sky blue sweater she wore over her jeans.

 

“Well come in,” Mulder led her into the living area and over to the couch.  Suddenly self-conscious of the flannel pants and thermal shirt he was wearing, he crossed his arms over his waist and shifted his weight from one bare foot to the other. “I guess I should get dressed.”

 

“Not on my account I hope.”

 

“I could probably find you a matching set somewhere and we could call it casual Thursday.”

 

“Tempting.  I’m sorry I interrupted your nothing.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

Mulder was rewarded with another smile and he wondered what he’d done to deserve three Scully smiles before eleven o’ clock on a day off.  “Go get dressed,” she said, turning her back to him to run her fingers along the front of his fish tank. She glanced over her shoulder at him when he didn’t move.  “I’ll just be here catching up with the mollies.”

 

“Waiting for me to leave the room so you can talk about me?”

 

“That’s what we usually do.”

 

“I’ll leave you ladies alone then.”

 

Mulder went into his room and shut the door. He was elated that Scully had appeared at his door, but concerned about it all the same.  It was unlike her to cancel plans, especially holiday plans with her family.  She was very conscientious about family obligations.  When she’d left him yesterday at the office, she had wished him a happy holiday and refused his offer to take her to the airport or pick her up. She said she planned to drive herself and leave her car in long-term parking.  He wondered what had changed between last night and this morning.

 

Quickly, Mulder found a pair of jeans and a clean sweater to wear by sniffing all the ones in his drawer and choosing the one that still smelled a bit like laundry detergent.  He combed his hair and brushed his teeth and when he emerged from the bedroom, Scully was sitting on the couch, her socked feet propped up on his coffee table while she flipped through a TV Guide.

 

“You get all the good gossip while I was gone?” Mulder asked.

 

Scully looked at the fish tank and then back at the magazine.  “I’m sworn to secrecy.”

 

Mulder sat down on the other side of the couch and leaned back.  He watched Scully slowly turn the pages of the TV Guide until she’d decided she was finished and closed the magazine.  She tossed it onto the table and angled herself towards Mulder, drawing her knees up and folding her legs up onto the couch.  She extended her arm along the back of the couch until her fingers almost touched the back of Mulder’s head.

 

“I’m going to San Diego for Christmas,” she said.  


“Okay.”

 

“Mom was a little disappointed that I changed my plans, but she’ll get over it.”

 

Mulder studied Scully’s face as she picked at a thread on the blanket over the back of the couch.  She was looking at her own fingers and not at him.

 

“I think it’ll be easier for me to deal with them at Christmas,” she continued, lifting her eyes for a brief moment to Mulder’s.   “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about some of the things you said.”

 

“I say a lot of things.”

 

“Things we talked about on your birthday.”

 

“Oh.”  

 

“You’re wearing your panic face.”

 

“Am I?”

 

Scully folded her arm up and rested her head on her fist.  She regarded him quietly for a few moments until she saw his Adam’s apple bob nervously in this throat and she took pity.  She reached out and put her free hand in his.

 

“I woke up this morning,” Scully said. “And I just thought, there’s only one place I want to be, and it’s not San Diego.”

 

“Disneyworld?”

 

“Here with you.”

 

Mulder stared at her with his eyes wide. She imagined the same expression would be on his face if she’d just told him she had scientific proof that Elvis was alive and well and living next door to her.  There was an equal mixture of excitement and fear and skepticism in the way his brow twitched and the way he pursed of his lips on the verge of a thought, but silent.

 

“I’m not making any promises about anything, Mulder,” Scully said and Mulder nodded a little.  “And I’m warning you, glaciers might move at a faster pace than I think I’m ready for.”

 

“Well,” Mulder said, clearing his throat when his voice squeaked a little.  “There’s this thing the kids are calling global warming.  I hear the polar icecaps are melting at an alarming rate.”

 

“Be that as it may, I was thinking that maybe we could try doing something normal people might do.”

 

“Define normal.”

 

“I don’t know, dinner and a movie, maybe.”

 

“No ghost hunts in abandoned mine shafts then?”

 

“That kind of sounds more like a third date activity.” Scully shrugged lightly, smiling.

 

“I like it when you smile, Scully.”

 

“I kind of like it too, Mulder.”

 

“Well I wouldn’t check yes for either of us in the conventional box, but dinner and a movie sounds nice. I bet that’s what Rob and Laura Petrie did on their first date.”

 

Scully quirked an eyebrow.  “Tread carefully, Mulder.”

 

“When would you like to go?”

 

“That depends on how many abandoned mine shafts you come across between now and Christmas.  If you want to do this before next year, that is.”

 

“If I pop in a video and you bring out whatever feast you stashed in the kitchen, will that count?”

 

“Even if it’s not one of the videos in your drawer that don’t belong to you, absolutely not.”

 

“Can’t blame a guy for tryin’, can you?”

 

Scully leaned over and cupped the opposite side of Mulder’s face, pressing a very soft kiss to his cheek.  “Let’s spend the day together and see where it takes us, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

**December 16, 1999 4:12 p.m.**

 

“Scully,” Mulder said, covering the receiver on the phone he was using as he called out to her.  “We can’t get on a flight to DC tonight, but we can get to Richmond and drive.”

 

Scully looked up from the file she was writing in. “Getting in to Richmond when?”

 

“Eleven, if it’s not delayed.”

 

Scully sighed and put down her pen. “So much for the benefits of wrapping up early.”

 

“We can still rent a car.”

 

“What’s the first flight tomorrow?”

 

“Six a.m. sharp.”

 

“Take the six a.m.  I don’t feel like spending five hours in a car right now.”

 

Mulder turned his attention back to the ticket agent he had on the phone and booked two tickets to DC for the following morning. He hung up when he was finished and watched Scully as she methodically arranged and prepared the closing paperwork on their latest case file.  They were stuck in a closet the New York City branch called an office to use their resources to submit their reports.  It was oddly enticing, watching his partner expertly staple and clip things together into neat little folders.

 

Behind him, a printer whirred to life, startling Mulder and attracting his attention.  Scully stood and hole-punched a file.  “Hand me that will you?” she asked, holding her hand out towards Mulder without looking, focused on her task.  Mulder handed her the slip of paper and she hole-punched that as well, securing it to the front of the file.  With a flourish of her pen, she signed her name to the paper and then handed it to Mulder.

 

Mulder put his signature on the paper and then looked at their names together. Scully’s signature was clearly feminine, all loops and clarity.  His was all straight lines and angles.  He liked seeing her name floating next to his so airily and permanent.

 

“Let’s get out of here, Mulder.”

 

Mulder looked up and Scully was already in her overcoat, leather satchel over her shoulder.  He stood up and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair. “What was that woman’s name up front?”

 

“The one who shamelessly flirted with you or the one who was at least a little more subtle about it?”

 

“The one who told us she would we could get the internal mailing envelope from her when we were finished.”

 

“That would be Lisa, the blatantly obvious one.”

 

“Is that an edge of hostility in your tone, Agent Scully?”

 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Agent Mulder.”

 

“Mmhm.”

 

Mulder was overly friendly with the tall, blonde-haired woman Scully referred to, hoping it would amuse her more than annoy her. When they had the report packed up for mailing, he gave Lisa a grin and then placed his hand on the small of Scully’s back.  He may have imagined it, but he thought he felt Scully move closer to him as they headed out the door.

 

The day was pleasantly mild.  It was cold without being frigid.  Even though it was still early, dusk was upon them, rapidly fading from a clear blue to a light grey.  They walked up the street together to search for a cab to take them uptown. It only took a few blocks to catch a taxi and they made it to their midtown east hotel before rush hour traffic really took effect.

 

Their hotel rooms were on the opposite sides of the same floor.  When they exited the elevator, Scully made to head to the left, but Mulder took her elbow, stopping her. “Hey,” he said.

 

“What?”

 

“I know we’ve had to postpone…plans.”

 

“Mulder, that’s not your fault.”

 

“For once, right?”

 

“Well I know you probably had incentive to look for things closer to home.”

 

“You think Skinner was trying to give himself an early Christmas present by getting us out of DC for two weeks?”

 

“I think he loses more hair when we’re out of town than when we’re home, so probably not.”

 

“Scully!” Mulder snickered.  “Is there scientific proof to back your claims that our boss’s baldness is directly related to our caseload?”

 

“It’s a theory still in the observation stage.”

 

“I’ll be interested in reading your report once you finish.”

 

 Scully smiled gently and then got them back on track.  “I know you’re probably disappointed.”

 

“I hope I’m not the only one.”

 

“I am.”

 

“Well, since tomorrow’s out of the question, and then you’re leaving for California, the case is finished…how about tonight?”

 

“Tonight?”

 

“Dinner.  Maybe just take in the sights.”

 

“Our flight is so early.”

 

“And it’s not even five.”

 

“You think you can have me back by eight?”

 

“Is that when you turn into a pumpkin?”

 

“We have to leave for the airport at four a.m., Mulder.”

 

“I’ll have you back.”

 

“All right.”

 

“All right?”

 

“Let me get changed and we can meet in the lobby, say, twenty minutes?”

 

“Dress casual.”  Mulder started walking away from her, backwards, towards the right end of the hall.  “Fifteen minutes.”

 

As Scully pulled on a pair of jeans and a turtleneck back in her own room, she wondered what Mulder had in mind for the evening. She was certain that there was no way he could have planned anything and neither of them were truly very spontaneous, even if Mulder had a habit of running off without warning. His impulsiveness was tied to the places any given investigation might take him, not his personal life.

 

Just shy of fifteen minutes later, as promised, Scully stepped off the elevator into the hotel lobby.  Mulder smiled at her from where he stood near the door. She slowed her pace, momentarily taken off guard with the way her body reacted to seeing him. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen him in those perfectly fitting jeans before, or that exact heather grey v-necked sweater and white t-shirt combination before.  And she’d seen him in that black leather jacket plenty of times, but something about how he looked in that moment sent her body tingling. Mine, she thought, and felt a blush rise to her cheeks. 

 

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” Scully said.

 

“Yes, you were so dangerously close to being on time I thought I might have to send out a search party.”

 

“You’re funny.”

 

Mulder simply smiled and led her out the door into the twilight.  They walked over to 5th Avenue along 40th Street.  Everywhere, stores were decorated with elaborate displays and Christmas music could be heard filtering out of the doors even over the din of traffic.  Vendors were out on nearly every corner, permeating the air with a lingering aroma of slightly burnt chestnuts. 

 

At Saks 5th Avenue, they stopped to watch electric snowflakes dance to Carol of the Bells along the wall. Mulder actually watched the delight on Scully’s face more than he watched the light show. He could see the snowflakes twinkling in her eyes and it made him happy.

 

When the show was over, they turned around and headed into the throng of tourists in Rockefeller Center, making their way under a canopy of twinkle lights towards the ice skating rink.  In the background, the city’s tallest Christmas tree loomed over the skaters and large, colorful toy soldiers flanked the corners. They stood at the edge of a guardrail, overlooking the rink, watching people skate.

 

“You want to?” Mulder asked, cocking his head towards the rink.

 

“Do I want to what?” Scully asked. “Ice skate?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Scully laughed.  “I don’t think I’ve been ice skating since high school, Mulder.”

 

“So?”

 

“You’re serious?”

 

“Why not?”

 

Scully looked back down at the skaters. The rink wasn’t that full. A handful of the skaters were children, the majority were teenagers, holding hands and laughing. The adults amongst them seemed to either be superior skaters, zooming around the rink like a swimmer might do laps, or parents holding up a child that might be experiencing the first time on ice.

 

“Okay,” Scully answered, shrugging and looking up at Mulder.  “Why not.”

 

Mulder paid for their skate rental and they sat down on bench to tie up their skates.  Scully finished first and ambled over on the rubber mat to store their shoes in a cubby near the registers.  It took a few tries for Mulder to get to his feet.  His ankles wobbled as he tried to get his weight distributed correctly.

 

“Ready?” Scully asked.

 

“As I’ll ever be.”

 

Scully took a tentative step onto the ice from the doorway, holding on to the side.  She glided a few feet in tandem with the direction of the skating traffic, keeping close to the wall, and then turned to wait for Mulder.  Mulder had one foot on the ice and a death grip on the wall. His knees were bent far too much and he was hunched too far over to keep balance.  Inch by inch, he worked his way over to Scully and the bemused arch of her eyebrow.

 

“Don’t mind me,” Mulder said. “Just getting my bearings.”

 

“Have you ever been ice skating before, Mulder?” Scully skated in small circles near Mulder so she wouldn’t fall from lack of movement.

 

“Once or twice, I think, when I was a kid.”

 

“Stand up straight or you’ll be on your ass before you even find the courage to let go of that wall.”

 

Mulder straightened his knees, but stayed hunched over, still hugging the wall, and almost took a nose-dive onto the ice. “Mulder!” Scully called, sliding over to him and gripping his arms to push him up.

 

“Oops,” Mulder said.

 

“Stand up.”

 

This time, Mulder straightened his entire body up. The movement propelled him backwards slightly and he grabbed at the wall.  “You’re hopeless, Mulder,” Scully said, laughing.  She took his hand and slowly skated backwards, glancing over her shoulder every so often.  Mulder stumble-skated towards her as she tugged him along, but kept one hand on the wall.

 

“This was a lot more romantic in my head,” Mulder said.

 

Scully felt a bit of a flutter in the pit of her stomach at the idea of Mulder purposefully trying to romance her. That thought distracted her so much she didn’t realize that Mulder had finally let go of the wall and was moving his feet enough to gain a bit of speed.

 

“Scully!”

 

Scully pushed herself into a small backwards arc just in time to avoid colliding with Mulder’s chest.  He squeezed her hand tightly, afraid she would fall if he let go, but she knew her way around a toe pick and was already gliding in time at his side. He relaxed his grip, but she kept her hand in his, wishing she somehow had the foresight to have removed her leather gloves. Next time, she thought.

 

It took some time, but they finally made it two full laps around the rink together.  Mulder had yet to venture far from the wall, however, and once they passed the entry door, he let Scully go.  “Go on,” he said. “Show me whatchya got.”

 

Scully reluctantly drifted away from Mulder and into the swarm of skaters making their way around the rink.  A few teens were challenging each other to attempt a spin in the center of the rink.  A young girl whizzed by Mulder with one leg extended behind her.  He was caught off guard and reacted with a jerk. His skates slipped out from under him and he landed on his hip as he tried to turn towards the wall to catch himself.

 

A little girl no more than six, her blonde hair in a neat bun, clad in a long-sleeved leotard and tulle skirt stopped next to Mulder with her hands on her hips.  “You all right, Mister?” she asked.

 

“I’ve been better,” Mulder said lightly, trying to get his feet back up from under him.

 

“No, no,” the little girl said. “Not like that, you’ll fall again. Like a baby.”  She bent over and put her hands on the ice before bringing her knees down as well.  “See,” she said, bringing one foot up and then standing again and slapping her hands against her legs.

 

Mulder tried to copy the girl, but was hesitant to trust his weight on one leg to lift himself up.  The little girl hovered over him with a critical eye.

 

“Taking some free lessons are we?” Scully asked, skating up beside Mulder and coming to a stop behind the little girl.

 

“He fell down,” the girl said. “I showed him how, but…” The girl sighed in exasperation and shrugged her shoulders.  “He just won’t listen.”

 

Scully snorted in amusement.  “Boy has she got you pegged.”

 

“Great, now my ego is being double-teamed.” Mulder heaved himself up, keeping one hand on the ice to help him stand.

 

“Told you!” the little girl said, and then she was off, speeding away from them now that her job was done.

 

“Can’t take you anywhere, Mulder,” Scully chuckled, taking his hand again.  Mulder noticed that she’d stuffed her gloves into the pockets of her jacket between now and when he’d left her.  Her fingers were a little chilled, but her hand was soft and fit so nicely in his.

 

They did one more lap together and then Mulder called it quits.  He stomped across the mat outside of the rink and dropped onto one of the benches. Scully said she wanted to go around once more and he watched her execute a turn at the end of the rink by crossing one foot over the other and then sliding her skates apart to pick up speed. By the time she joined him outside the rink, he had his shoes on and hers were waiting for her next to him on the bench.

 

“That was fun, Mulder,” Scully said. “Not something we do often.”

 

“Not something we do at all, really.”

 

“I guess that’s true.”

 

“There’s a restaurant down here. Hungry?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

The dined near a window, watching the skaters make their rounds, and for a short time, a Zamboni driver sweep over the rink while the crowd waited to be let back onto the ice.  The dinner they shared wasn’t that much different than any other meal they’d ever had together.  Scully immediately relocated the cherry tomatoes from her salad onto Mulder’s plate and Mulder turned his plate so that the French fries that came with his burger were facing Scully so she’d have an easier time stealing them. He ordered a Diet Coke with extra lemons for her while she was in the bathroom and she asked the waitress to hold the pickles on his burger when he forgot.

 

“Well,” Mulder said, as they came back up into the plaza at Rockefeller Center.  “I guess we should head back.”

 

“Mmhm.”  Scully yawned into her fist.

 

“Oh, wait.”  Mulder left Scully where she was standing and jogged over to a man shooting photos of the skaters with a professional looking camera.  He spoke to him for a few minutes and then jogged back over to Scully.

 

“What was that about?” Scully asked.

 

“C’mere,” Mulder said, pulling her over a few feet and then putting his arm around her shoulder.  “He’s going to take our picture for us with the tree.”

 

“The tree?”  Scully turned around and looked up at the brightly lit, 50-foot Christmas tree behind them.  She shifted her eyes to Mulder and cocked her head.  “Why?”

 

“Souvenir?”  Mulder shrugged, smiling.  “Don’t forget to say cheese.”

 

Scully turned her head straight and looked towards the man Mulder had somehow cajoled into taking the photo. She smiled softly and then Mulder let go of her and went back to the man.  He took out his wallet and gave the man a twenty-dollar bill along with his business card.  “He’ll send them to us,” Mulder said to her when he came back to get her.  “Ready?”

 

The air was chillier on the way back to the hotel and Scully was forced to keep her gloved hands in her pockets, rather disappointed. Mulder put his hand on her back when she shivered though, and then tucked her into his side. After a few blocks, she worked up the nerve to wind her arm around his waist, first sliding her hand inside his jacket to keep her arm warm.  Mulder hugged her closer and his chin briefly scratched the top of her head.

 

“Damn,” Mulder said, lifting his sleeve to check his watch as they entered the front door of their hotel.

 

“What?” Scully asked.

 

“We’re ten minutes late.  Will you forgive me?”

 

Scully smiled.  “I’ll sleep on the plane.”

 

They rode up in the elevator together and Mulder walked down the hall with her to her room.  “I had a nice time,” Scully said, as they reached her door.

 

“Me too.”

 

“We should do it again some time.”

 

Mulder nodded.  Scully tracked his eyes as they moved over her face and then down to her mouth. He bent closer and she tipped her head back until it thumped lightly against her door.  “Good night,” Mulder whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, dangerously close to the corner of her mouth.

 

“Good night,” Scully whispered back.

 

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

Without looking back, Mulder shoved his hands inside the pockets of his coat and walked away.  It was a long time, well after Mulder had disappeared around the corner, before Scully could peel herself away from the door where she lay limp and plastered against it and she considered canceling yet another flight to San Diego.

 

**January 1, 2000 12:07 a.m.**

 

Why’d I have to make that crack about the world not ending? Mulder thought.  Stupid. He sat back in the passenger seat of his own car and closed his eyes.  In the driver’s seat, Scully adjusted the mirrors and the wheel to suit her frame and then took them away from the hospital.

 

When Mulder woke, it was to the sound of a door being slammed.  He looked around, disoriented.  They were not on his street.  The car was parked in front of Scully’s apartment building.  Scully opened his door and leaned down into the car.

 

“Mulder?”

 

“Your place?”

 

“Easier to keep my eye on you this way. Come on, you can’t sit here and freeze.”

 

Mulder managed to get out of the car, albeit slowly. His shoulder hurt like a sonofabitch and he made unhappy faces while trying to get himself onto the sidewalk. Scully showed no signs of sympathy for his injury, walking slightly ahead of him to open the door to her building. Once inside, she stripped off her coat and disappeared into either her bedroom or the bathroom, he wasn’t sure.

 

It was nice and warm inside Scully’s apartment and Mulder slumped down on her couch.  After a failed attempt to untie his shoes with one hand, he sighed and laid his head on the back of the sofa, closing his eyes.  His brain felt a little foggy even though he didn’t think they gave him anything at the hospital that was stronger than a prescription strength anti-inflammatory.

 

“No,” Scully said, returning to the living room. “Mulder, you can’t sleep here.”

 

Mulder groaned and opened his eyes. It was a bit of a struggle to lift his head.  “All right, but call me a cab, I can’t drive.”

 

“That’s not…Mulder, get up.  I mean, you can’t sleep on the couch.  Come on.”

 

“Just drop a blanket over me, I’ll be fine.”

 

“Get up.”

 

Sighing, Mulder got to his feet. He felt a little woozy. “Did that nurse slip me a mickey, Scully?”

 

“I think you’re just exhausted.”

 

The blankets and sheets on Scully’s bed had already been turned down.  Mulder sat down and couldn’t help but remember the last time he’d been in this room. It looked different in the light.  As Scully knelt to remove his shoes, he ran his hand over the sheets.  They were different.  He distinctly remembered thinking that the sky blue pillow he woke up on matched the color of her eyes. These sheets were flannel; green and grey striped flannel.

 

Scully glanced up and caught Mulder petting her sheets with a faraway look in his eyes.  She knew exactly what he was thinking, which is why her fingers plucked ineffectively at his shoelaces, accidentally pulling a knot into one. She managed to get his shoes off anyway and she walked them out of the room to the front door, just to get a moment to collect herself.  When she came back, Mulder was still sitting on the edge of the bed, looking like he was waiting for instructions.

 

“Is there an overnight bag in your car?” Scully asked. “I should’ve asked before we came up.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Something to sleep in.”

 

Mulder shook his head.  “This’ll be fine.”

 

“You can’t possibly be comfortable.”

 

Mulder shrugged and then winced, hissing slightly. Scully sighed and moved in front of him, reaching her hand out.  “Stand up,” she said, pulling him to his feet.  “I know you’ll probably think of a thousand witty retorts to what I’m about to say, but I suggest you keep them to yourself.”

 

“Whatever they are, can I write them in my diary later?”

 

“Just stay still and let me take your pants off.”

 

Mulder bit his lip, but couldn’t stop the smile that tugged the corners of his mouth up.  Scully kept her eyes on his face as she reached down and found the hem of his t-shirt. She used it to guide her fingers up to the waistband of his jeans and then she slid them towards the middle. Her thumb traced the button in front before she slipped it open and searched for the zipper pull. Once the pants were loose, she felt for the belt loops at his sides and then carefully eased the jeans down and over his hips.  When she had them clear of his thighs, she sat Mulder back down on the bed and pulled them off his legs.

 

“Thanks,” Mulder said.

 

“You’ll sleep better.”  Scully folded his jeans and set them on the chair in the corner.

 

“I probably will.”

 

With Scully’s assistance, Mulder lay down. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply when his head hit he pillow.  He could smell her.  Whatever the spicy vanilla scent was that she’d taken to wearing lately lingered on the sheets. He wanted to turn and bury his face into it, but that certainly wasn’t possible.  It was probably for the best.

 

“Scully?” Mulder said, opening his eyes when he heard her turn off the lamp next to him.

 

Scully sat on the side of the bed and put her hand on Mulder’s head like she was checking for a fever. “You okay?”

 

“I don’t want to kick you out of bed.”

 

“I’ll be all right.”  Scully took her hand away, but didn’t get up. The side of her face was illuminated by the slice of moonlight cutting through the blinds.  She was looking towards the windows, but he could see that her eyes were closed.

 

“It’s not like…”

 

“Not like what?” she asked.

 

“I’m rather immobile.”

 

“Are you trying to assure the safety of my virtue?”

 

“Something like that.”

 

Scully slipped off the bed and Mulder heard her open and close a few drawers.  She moved around the room like a dark shadow.  “I’ll be right back,” she said, and Mulder turned his head to look at the empty side of the bed.  He wiggled his way closer to the middle, just an inch or two.  Quiet as a whisper, Scully slipped back through the door and then she was lying beside him.  She brought the top sheet up and over both of them as she settled on her back, arms crossed over her stomach.

 

Mulder turned his head to look at her. She felt his eyes on her so she turned her head as well and they stared at each other in the dark. Thankful that his good arm was the one next to her, he reached over and sought out her hand. She turned her wrist and folded her fingers over his and he dragged their joined hands over to rest against his chest.

 

Scully rolled onto her side and looked at Mulder’s face.  She could see the clock on her nightstand over his head and watched the numbers change from 1:59 to 2:00. Without stopping to talk herself out of it, she pushed herself up on her elbow and leaned over Mulder’s shoulder, touching her lips to his and holding her mouth there for longer than what could be deemed as friendly.

 

“Not that I’m complaining,” Mulder whispered. “But what was that for?”

 

“It just turned midnight mountain time,” Scully answered.  “I wanted to wish them a happy new year.”

 

“If you’re still awake in an hour, do you want to wish the west coast a happy new year too?”

 

Scully smiled as she closed the small gap to give Mulder another kiss.  “Happy new year, west coast,” she murmured against his lips.  “I’ll be asleep.”

 

“Maybe a belated happy new year to the midwest too? And what about Hawaii?” Mulder murmured back.

 

“Happy new year, midwest," she whispered, kissing one corner of Mulder's mouth and then the other. "Happy new year Hawaii.”

 

Mulder sighed when Scully pulled back from her light kisses.  He couldn’t think of anywhere else this side of the international date line.  Scully rested her head close to his shoulder. All things considered, Mulder thought the new year was starting off with a lot of potential.

 

**January 19, 2000 9:29 a.m.**

 

“It’s been awhile, Dana,” Karen Kossoff said, as Scully took a seat on the couch in the social worker’s office.

 

“Thank you for seeing me.”  Scully shifted uncomfortably.  The material of her shirt irritated the cuts on her arms and back. The cut on her lip still bled spontaneously if the scab was disturbed in any way, which made it difficult to speak. That and her swollen cheek also throbbed a little when she moved her jaw and she wished she’d taken an Ibuprofen on her way in.

 

“AD Skinner briefed me on last night’s shooting. Can you tell me what happened?”

 

“I don’t know if you remember, but the first session I had with you was back in 1994 after my abduction.”

 

“You were suffering from PTSD and involved in tracking a serial murder at the time, Donnie Pfaster, who I understand is the man you shot last night.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What happened?”

 

Very concisely, as though she was drafting a case report, Scully went over the details of Donnie Pfaster’s escape from prison and their involvement in the investigation.  She detached herself from subsequent events enough to talk through them, describing the struggle in her bedroom, how she was overpowered in her hallway, and how her hands were tied behind her.  How she was locked inside her closet and how she was able to crawl through the wreckage of broken glass and ceramics on her floor.  At this point, she faltered.

 

“And then it’s like…I don’t remember what happened. Rather, I can’t remember it clearly. It was like being in slow motion or having your eyes open underwater.”

 

“Tell me what you do remember.”

 

“I couldn’t feel my fingers, the bindings were so tight.”  Scully traced the abrasions and light bruises on one of her wrists.  They were sensitive to the touch and burned a little. “There was a large piece of glass on the floor. When I was dragging myself across the floor, it cut through the cloth and then my hands were free.”

 

“What did you do when you got your hands free?”

 

“I saw my gun on the floor and that’s all I remember clearly.  It was dark. I didn’t know where he was. I don’t remember leaving the bedroom, but suddenly I was in the living room and he was there. His eyes…I could see his eyes in the dark and it was like looking at evil.”

 

Scully paused and took a few, short breaths. She blinked away the image of Pfaster’s face from her mind.  She wanted to erase that image permanently.  It made her cold and clammy.

 

“Dana?”

 

“I don’t remember pulling the trigger. I don’t remember hearing the sound of the gun.  There was no sound at all. A lightbulb exploded. I remember seeing it shatter, but I don’t know how it happened.  And then I remember seeing Mulder standing in front of me with his gun drawn. I thought he’d shot him.”

 

“How did you come to realize that you had been the one to shoot Donnie Pfaster?”

 

“I saw it in Mulder’s face.”

 

“Tell me how you felt in that moment?”

 

Scully let her eyes bounce around the room. How could she put into words what it was like to feel that some unnamed sinister force had been in that room and possibly in her?  How do you tell someone what it’s like to have a consciousness of something only by seeing it through the reflection in someone else’s eyes.  Who could possibly understand what that was like?  Who aside from Mulder?  Scully’s chin began to tremble.

 

“Dana?”

 

“I’ve been forced to fire my weapon before under circumstances of self-defense,” Scully said.  “And then thought very little of it afterwards. It was reactive and yet I always felt in control, no matter what the situation.  I believed I had the upper hand, even if I didn’t. This was different. This was very different.”

 

“Tell me how it was different.”

 

“It was personal,” Scully whispered. “He told me I was the one that got away. That I was all he thought about.”

 

“How did that make you feel?”

 

“Disturbed.”

 

“Did you want Donnie Pfaster dead?”

 

“I wanted him punished, not dead. That’s why I requested life imprisonment at his hearing in 1994.  It’s not my place to take a life.  It’s not any of ours.”

 

“How does it make you feel now that he is dead?”

 

“I’m not sorry about it.  I do remember feeling relieved when Mulder told me he was dead because I thought he won’t be able to hurt me again.  He won’t be able to hurt anyone again. But, it doesn’t make me feel good knowing that I shot him.”

 

“It’s normal to feel relieved, Dana. It’s also normal to feel remorse and guilt.”

 

Scully looked down at her hands. She ran her thumb over the edge of a broken nail.  Dealing with normal feelings was not her forte. 

 

“Is there something else that’s bothering you, Dana? Something related to this case or something else in general?”

 

Scully considered this.  She started slowly, purposely keeping her answer vague. “I’ve recently become involved with someone.  I do have some fear about how this incident may affect that relationship.”

 

“Does he understand the nature of your work?”

 

“He knows.  He knew what it was like before we became involved.”

 

“In what way do you think it will affect your relationship?”

 

“I’m not…very good at sharing my feelings.”

 

“You do fairly well in here and I know it’s hard for you.”

 

“It’s not the same.”

 

“I think in the past, you’ve expressed some anxiety about exposing your vulnerabilities to your partner.  Would you say you have those same concerns in your relationship?”

 

The muscles in Scully’s face tensed as she tried to keep a neutral expression.  Her eyebrow arched unconsciously.  On any other day, she would be amused.  “Yes,” she said. “I think it would be fair to say I have those same concerns.”

 

“Do you share positive feelings exclusively, or do you just withhold the negative ones?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Do you ever say, ‘this makes me happy? I enjoy your company. You made me feel good today.’”

 

“No.  Probably not.  I don’t think I really talk about how I’m feeling one way or the other.”  Scully frowned a little.  “I would say it’s probably equally as difficult for me to tell someone I’m happy as it is to tell them I’m not.”

 

“Why is that?”

 

“I don’t know.”  Scully shook her head and bit her lip.  She whimpered slightly at the burst of pain and the sudden sticky, coppery taste in her mouth.  Karen hurried over to her desk and brought back a box of tissues.

 

“Can I get you anything?” Karen asked.

 

“It’ll stop,” Scully answered, dabbing at her bleeding lip with a tissue.  There were tears in her eyes and she wasn’t entirely sure they were brought on from the pain of her mouth.  “I think...I grew up as a Navy brat where feelings didn’t matter much in the long run. It didn’t matter if we were happy in one place, if the Navy said we had to move, that’s what we did. One day things would be great, but it could turn on a dime.  There didn’t seem to be much of a point to me.”

 

“Are you generally afraid that happiness will become sadness?”

 

“No, actually.  I don’t think I’d consider myself to be a pessimistic person at all. It’s just hard for me to see the point of telling someone how I feel when they can’t change it.”

 

“Sharing things often brings people closer together.”

 

“Looking back on my past relationships, I would say that I had a tendency to get involved with men with whom feelings were secondary. They had overwhelming personalities. Always in charge. Arrogant. They shared their brilliance, but it was more like how someone might wield a weapon.”

 

“Have you fallen into that same pattern in your current relationship?”

 

Scully had to smile a little at that. “No,” she said quietly. “Apart from having an overwhelming personality, no.  He’s unabashedly emotional. Confident, not arrogant. He is brilliant, but there’s no expectation that you should be impressed by it.”

 

“Is this a better fit for you?”

 

Scully blinked and two tears dropped from her eyes. “I think he’s the perfect fit for me. I don’t want to lose him.”

 

“You could try talking to him, Dana. You could try sharing some of the things you’ve told me today.”

 

“It’s knowing where to start.”

 

“You know you can come see me at any time. Trauma doesn’t go away and stop hurting you just because you recognize it.  You need to work at it.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Make an appointment for next week, Dana. Even if it’s just to check in.”

 

“I appreciate that. I will.”


	4. Chapter 4

**February 4, 2000 1:01 a.m.**

 

Mulder lay on his side, hugging his arm and staring at the wall across from the bed. Behind him, he felt Scully’s hand on his back, resting lightly between his shoulder blades.  He hadn’t slept the night before, and he was tired, too tired to sleep.  He turned over and Scully moved the hand that had been resting on his back to his face. She didn’t say anything and neither did he.

 

It was a strange feeling, the feeling of contentment. Just the night before he had been upset by the news Scully had brought about his mother’s death, but now he felt a newfound freedom in putting the search for his sister behind him. And through it all he had Scully. They had a lot of ups and downs in the last month, a lot more downs than ups, but she was still here, and for that he was grateful. 

 

He remembered how surprised he was just a few weeks ago when Scully returned to the office from her meeting with the staff therapist. She shut the door and walked over to where he was trying to fix the projection screen and after a moment of stillness, put her arms around him and laid her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her loosely, afraid of irritating the lacerations on her back. For the next five minutes, he held her quietly, and then she stepped away and thanked him for being him and asked what was on the agenda for the day.  A complete change from the night before when she’d told him gently, but firmly, that he should take her to a hotel and not to his apartment so that she could be alone.

 

Matching the way Scully held his face and gently caressed his cheek, he did the same.  She seemed as content as he was to simply lie on top of this hotel bed with the noise of LA traffic streaming by, and just look at each other. He thought about how far they’d come. From the days when she’d been little more than the spy sent to invalidate his work to the woman he could now say he had the privilege of holding her hand just because he felt like it. He also had the privilege of touching her and kissing her, though for the time being the privilege was limited to a PG kind of romance, one that just barely pushed the boundaries of PG-13.

 

Mulder was okay with it.  He let Scully take the lead and took the signals from her on whatever pace she was comfortable with.  The relationships he’d been in before burned hot and fast. They started with a spark, the flame ignited, and then the light would fizzle and turn cold.  Those women had been different.  He had been drawn to their beauty and basked in the glow of their attention, only to find himself trapped in a web of psychological and emotional manipulation. Needing to believe in the best of people, he forgave and forgot more times than he should have.

 

Scully was in a category unto herself, as far as Mulder was concerned; intelligent, compassionate, patient, beautiful. She’d probably deny all of the above to varying degrees.  It was nearly impossible to get her to accept a compliment.  Plus, he was getting to learn a playful side of her that didn’t come out too often before.  He saw glimpses of it in their earlier days together, but the light had gone out in her for some time after her abduction and was slow to return. 

 

The bottom line was, Scully was the best part of his day and he’d continue to tell her she made him a whole person, that she was his one in five billion and that she was his touchstone until she believed him, and then he still wouldn’t stop.

 

“You should get some sleep,” Scully said, her soft whisper tickling his ears like a feather.

 

“I will if you will.”

 

Scully moved her hand from Mulder’s face and took his from her cheek.  She slipped her fingers between his and drew their joined hands under her chin, resting her jaw on his knuckles.  Slowly, her breathing evened out and her hand grew slack in his.  He watched her until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer and fell asleep.

 

**February 14, 2000 8:13 p.m.**

 

Scully rolled her shoulders and stretched her arms back as they waited in the aisle to disembark the airplane. Behind her, Mulder was pulling their rolling suitcases from the overhead bin.  Slowly, but steadily, the aisles in front of them began to empty out and they finally made their way to the terminal.

 

“Home, sweet home,” Mulder said as they moved in tandem through Dulles Airport.

 

“Yeah,” Scully answered, tired and distracted. They’d been up all night, literally, chasing monsters through the streets of LA and running away from a documentary camera crew while they were at it.  Well, she was running away from the camera, Mulder seemed to embrace the opportunity to catch a monster on video.  She hadn’t slept, and to make matters worse, it was the most turbulent flight she’d been on in years, which meant even when she tried to catch a nap on the plane, it was impossible.

 

“Hey, wait here a minute, okay?” Mulder put a hand on Scully’s back and then pivoted his suitcase next to hers when she stopped.

 

Scully yawned and watched Mulder disappear into the newsstand slash convenience store slash souvenir shop that was a staple of all airports.  She assumed he was desperate for a bag of sunflower seeds since he usually complained about the inflated prices of every last item in the terminals except for the newspapers. She watched the arrival boards as she waited and tried to feel a bit of gratitude for the fact that although it was a turbulent flight, it was not delayed more than fifteen minutes, as many of the incoming flights were due to a storm ripping through the Midwest. Thank God for small favors, she thought.

 

Mulder came back to her with a plastic bag tucked under his arm and a smile on his face.  He took his suitcase in hand and they continued on to the corridor leading to long-term parking.  When they reached the car, he popped the trunk and then gave Scully the keys to let herself into the passenger side while he stowed their luggage.  The car was freezing, and Mulder waited after starting the engine for the heat to kick in and the defroster to do its job.

 

Scully cupped her hands to her mouth and exhaled into the hollow of her palms, trying to generate heat.  When the car was warm enough, and the heat had been reset to a bearable level, they put on their belts and Mulder began the looping drive through the parking garage to the exit.  When they reached the highway, headed towards Scully’s apartment, Mulder pulled out the bag he’d stashed next to his seat when he got in the car and gave it to Scully.

 

“What’s this?” Scully asked, poking the bag Mulder silently dropped in her lap.

 

“I didn’t think we’d be out of town today,” Mulder answered.  “I didn’t think we’d be on a plane today either.”

 

Scully peered into the bag and suppressed a grin. She gave Mulder a sidelong glance before she reached in and pulled out a small, white teddy bear holding a red satin heart sewn to its paws.  Tucked behind the heart and between the bears’ arms was a Snickers bar.

 

“Mulder,” Scully said, amused and feeling a little bashful.  It was a juvenile, adorable gesture and though she considered herself immune to such asinine and cliché gifts such as flowers and chocolate, for some reason it made her feel all aflutter.

 

“I think you should name him Melvin,” Mulder said, glancing over at Scully with a small smile.

 

Scully chuckled and reached back into the bag for the red envelope that was poking out.  The card inside was cheesy.  A cartoon dog licked the face of another cartoon dog on the outside and inside it simply said “Happy Doggone Valentines Day.”  Another smaller, plain envelope was inside the card and she opened that up and pulled out two 3x5 photos of the two of them in Rockefeller Center.

 

“I only got them last week,” Mulder said. “Pete the photographer was apparently on an extended tour of the states before heading home to Spain to develop his pictures.”

 

In the first photo, they both smiled warmly towards the camera, the twinkling Christmas tree behind them in muted focus. In the second, they were looking at each other in the photo.  Her lips were pursed as though in mid-conversation and Mulder had a mischievous smile on his face.  His eyes were nearly closed and hers were wide and bright.  Even in the dim interior of the car, pure joy radiated out of the picture at her.

 

“They came out good, didn’t they?” Mulder asked.

 

“Worth the wait,” she murmured.

 

“A lot of things are worth the wait.”

 

Scully slipped both pictures back into the envelope and reached across the seat.  Mulder took one hand off the steering wheel and laced his fingers with hers. She brushed his knuckles with her thumb while rubbing the fuzzy ears of the teddy bear in her lap, looking out the window in reflection.  It was such a wonder to her that there were moments that she could hold Mulder’s hand just because she could. 

 

It was still a difficult transition for her and it took conscious effort on her part to remember that she was allowed to touch him in more intimate ways than before and also to remember that he was allowed to do the same.  Every time Mulder touched her, she felt his restraint, like he was trying to stop himself before she did from moving his hand lower or his kisses harder or his arms tighter. She wished he would demand a little more from her sometimes, but she figured that was her own fault. Once bitten and twice shy.

 

Scully thought she might be ready for more. The dates, if you could call them dates, that Mulder took her on were always very sweet and very out of the box. In between dealing with emotional upheaval on both their parts, they had back-to-back cases to contend with and very little free time.  Still, there was impromptu ice-skating in New York City, and he’d taken her to a bar that held turtle races in Chicago.  They’d also sat on the promenade in Santa Monica, drinking hot chocolate and listening to street musicians. 

 

They only time they’d had a chance to go out in DC, it happened to be a very pleasant evening after work. The temperature hovered near fifty degrees, a rarity for late January, and Mulder insisted they cut out early to enjoy it.  They walked through the National Mall and after stopping at a deli for food, Mulder took her to the Einstein Memorial and they had a sort of picnic alongside the ten-foot bronze statue of the scientist.  He asked her what she thought the legacy of Einstein meant to the world and when she finished, he told her his favorite quote of Einstein’s was “the only reason for time is so that everything does not happen at once.” It was the first and only time she’d kissed him in a public place, though it was merely a brief peck on the cheek.

 

Deep in her reverie, Scully was surprised to find they were two blocks away from her apartment and she was still holding Mulder’s hand.  It was a good half an hour drive from the airport to her place and she hadn’t really noticed.

 

“Mulder,” Scully said.

 

“Scully,” he replied.

 

“Let’s go somewhere.”

 

“Are you hungry?”

 

“No, I mean…you’ve squirreled away your vacation time for years, haven’t you?”

 

“Are you suggesting a leave of absence?”

 

“More like a week of relaxation.”

 

“Together?”

 

“Wouldn’t you like to get away for a bit?”

 

“Alone?”

 

“Is there someone else you want to invite?”

 

Mulder was quiet for a few moments as he pulled up in front of Scully’s building and cut the engine.  She squeezed his fingers lightly and tipped her head to lie against the headrest, face turned towards him.

 

“Where do you want to go?” Mulder asked.

 

“Somewhere warm, maybe.  Somewhere we haven’t been before.”

 

“I suppose if you put in for your vacation, and I told Skinner I was doing the same in order to resist the temptation to get myself into any messy entanglements without the backup of my much more responsible, smarter, most beautiful partner in the bureau, it would get approved.”

 

“I’d maybe revise how you state the request, but I can’t see Skinner denying a vacation for either us, just considering….the year so far.”

 

“We can double-team, guilt trip Walter into it. He’ll never know what hit him.”

 

“I think merely filling out the forms will suffice, Mulder.”

 

“Just thinking ahead.  Planning for all contingencies.”

 

“You and Nostradamus.”  Scully raised her hand and crossed her index finger over her middle finger.

 

Mulder laughed and grabbed Scully’s fingers, pushing her hand back to the seat.  “What if we find this warm place we’ve never been to before and it happens to be haunted?” he asked.

 

“Then I’d have to suggest you leave the ghostbusting to the local authorities.  You’ll be too busy.”

 

“With what?”

 

“Me.”

 

A slow smile spread across Mulder’s face and Scully could swear she saw him blush, even in the darkness.  His cheeks glowed under the streetlight.  If she was quiet enough, she thought she might be able to hear his heart beating just as fast as hers.

 

“I’ll look into some options,” Mulder said. “We have to give Skinner a two week notice.”

 

“Three.  When was the last time you took a vacation without being forced to?”

 

“Never.”

 

“Why don’t we plan for late March.”

 

“That far away?”

 

“Good things come to he who waits.”

 

“Oh, we’re back to slinging clichés are we? The early bird catches the worm.”

 

“Patience is a virtue.”

 

“Carpe diem!”

 

“The only reason for time is so that everything does not happen at once.”

 

Mulder cocked his head and then his eyes wrinkled with a wide smile.  “Now you’re just using my own words against me.”

 

“No, I’m using Einstein’s words against you.”

 

“I guess I’ll let you win this round.”

 

“How generous of you.”  Scully scoffed.

 

“I’m a giver.”

 

Scully smiled dreamily at Mulder. She felt almost as through she was in a state of euphoria.  The car was still warm, she was sleepy, and Mulder had been caressing her wrist with his thumb since he turned off the car.  She had essentially just asked him to take her on a romantic getaway and he’d readily agreed, but now she was having thoughts of reconsideration.  Maybe now was the time they, correction, _she_ had been waiting for.

 

“Have you ever been to St. Barts, Scully?”

 

“No, I haven’t.”

 

“I think it might be nice.”

 

“I think you might be right.”

 

“I’ll have my travel agent call your travel agent.”

 

“We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

 

“I guess it’s late and you want to head up. May I walk you to the door?”

 

“You may.  I might even let you carry my bag.”

 

“Oh what a lucky boy I am.”

 

“And don’t you forget it.”

 

Mulder made a move to open the door, but Scully grabbed the lapels of his jacket with one hand and pulled him closer to her as she leaned forward.  She pressed her lips against his in a bruising kiss.  Mulder grabbed the back of her head and kissed her back.

 

“God, Scully,” Mulder husked, breaking away to catch his breath.

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mulder.”

 

**February 23, 2000 6:47 p.m.**

 

“What’re you thinking?” Mulder asked.

 

“Grilled vegetables look good.”

 

Mulder lowered the menu in his hand and gave Scully a chastising look.  “Scully.”

 

“Mulder,” she answered, her attention focused on her menu.

 

“This place serves grilled swordfish.”

 

“I don’t like grilled swordfish.”

 

“Have you ever had it?”

 

Scully finally glanced up.  “Have you?”

 

“I have not.”

 

“I like vegetables.  I don’t like swordfish.”

 

“You said you felt like fish.”

 

“I did. Now I don’t.”  Scully closed her menu and reached for the glass of wine in front of her.  “This is a lovely restaurant. You did good.”

 

“Do you want to share the bruschetta?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Is everything all right?”

 

“Just wondering how often you feel the need to blast the crap out of something.”

 

“I see.”  Mulder tried to hide his smile by lifting his menu a little higher. “What are your thoughts on the oysters?”

 

“Order at your own risk.”

 

“Oh look, the waiter.”

 

Mulder closed his menu and signaled to their waiter who was leisurely patrolling the tables in their section. The young man approached immediately and took their order.  Scully got the grilled vegetables and a bowl of clam chowder.  Mulder got the red snapper.  He also ordered the bruschetta as an appetizer.

 

“Be honest, Scully,” Mulder said, as the waiter left the table with their order.  “Tell me you didn’t get even a little satisfaction out of wielding that weapon.”

 

“Not even a little.”

 

“Well that’s a shame.”

 

“Why?”  Scully swirled her wine, lowering her chin a little so she was looking up at Mulder. “There are other ways of being satisfied.”

 

“Do tell, Agent Scully.”  Mulder leaned closer across the table and raised his brows.

 

“You know.  A nice, long, breathless, heart-pounding…run through the park.”

 

“No.”  Mulder shook his head.  “Not even close.”

 

“You can’t tell me what I find satisfying and what I don’t.”

 

Mulder leaned even closer and touched her index finger that was wrapped around her wine glass, resting on the table between them. “I’d like to.”

 

Scully felt the tables turn.  The virtual reality game did nothing for her to work out any latent aggression she may have.  Instead, it left her feeling antagonistic and frustrated.  It even annoyed her that Mulder had taken her to one of the nicest restaurants she’d ever been to for her birthday when she’d just spent an entire night saving his ass.  He didn’t get to be so thoughtful, and he didn’t have the right to flirt back, and flirt better.  Especially since there was nothing either could do about it.  Well they could, but Mulder had put in an admirable amount of research and effort in booking their trip to St. Barts and she wanted it to be both special and memorable.  Mostly, she wanted their first, technically second time together to be separate and apart from any negativity.

 

“Do you want to dance?” Mulder asked.

 

“What?”

 

Mulder inclined his head towards a small dance floor in the center of the room that Scully hadn’t even noticed, even though there were at least half a dozen couples waltzing along to a string quartet installed in the corner.  It had been a long time since she’d danced with anyone, excluding the brief bit of swaying she’d done with Mulder at a Cher concert.  She didn’t even know if she could really count that as dancing.

 

“Come on, Scully,” Mulder took his linen napkin off his lap and put it on the table, extending his hand.  “You can step on my feet if you want to.”

 

“Maybe I’m worried you’ll step on my feet,” she answered, dropping her own napkin to the table and taking his hand.

 

When they reached the dance floor, Mulder put his arm around her waist and clasped her hand.  She rested her other hand on his shoulder and then they moved in a slow box trot, never stepping far outside their own little space. Scully was surprised by how at ease Mulder was with leading her, almost like it was second nature.

 

“Where’d you learn to dance, Mulder?”

 

“My mother made me take this etiquette class for young adults the summer before junior high.  There were two girls for every boy in it. We danced a lot. I mean, we learned how to set a table and write a mean thank you note as well, but we danced a lot.”

 

“Are you telling me you went to finishing school?” Scully teased, raising her brow.

 

“If word gets out, I’ll deny this conversation ever happened.”

 

“No one would believe me anyway.”

 

Mulder chose that moment to spin Scully away from him and then he pulled her back to him, holding her even closer. He put his hand higher on her back this time, so that his fingers were splayed just above the satin edge where her dress turned to bare skin.  His thumb rolled over her spine from her neck down between her shoulders.  He might as well have touched her with a live wire the way it electrified her body.  The hairs on her arms stood on end as a wave of gooseflesh swept over her. She lost all focus for a moment and tripped on Mulder’s foot.  He paused in his step, holding her up against him.

 

“Everything all right?” Mulder asked.

 

“Fine,” she answered.

 

“Your eyes look a little glassy.”

 

“It’s a little warm in here.”

 

“Do you want to sit down?”

 

“Not yet.” 

 

Mulder picked up with the dance again, but moved slower, taking smaller steps, swaying mostly.  His thumb resumed the journey along her spine. It was hypnotic. She suddenly felt the very powerful urge to blast the crap out of something.

 

“Tell me something, Mulder.”

 

“Anything.”

 

“Aside from the obvious, what makes Jade Blue Afterglow every man’s fantasy?”

 

“Why do you assume she’s every man’s fantasy?”

 

“Isn’t she?”

 

“Some.  Definitely not all.”

 

“Yours?”

 

“Not even close.”  Mulder’s hand slipped down to the small of Scully’s back and pressed her closer.

 

“Be honest, Mulder.”

 

“Women like that…women who don’t have to try very hard to turn a man’s head, don’t try very hard at anything.” Mulder stood still, but continued to hold Scully in the dance position.  He looked directly into her eyes while hers darted over his face with anxiety.

 

“Sure, she’s attractive,” Mulder said. “I won’t lie about that. She wears sex like a second skin. But, there has to come a time in everyone’s life where they’re not just thinking about the now. You think about a year from now. You think about ten years from now. Twenty-five.  There’s a difference between fleeting passion and sustained pleasure.  Could I have deep conversations with Ms. Afterglow?  Probably not.  Would I ever trust her with really scary, personal emotions?  The chances of that are slim to none.  My fantasy is pretty boring, Scully.  I’d just like partner.  But, I’d like to think, and you can correct me if I’m wrong, that I already have one.”

 

Scully’s cheeks burned bright. Mulder had a way of capturing her attention like no other person in the world.  There was no one else who could hold her this close and speak to her so softly and hold her gaze so attentively that she was rendered motionless. She could barely breathe.

 

“Scully?” Mulder asked.

 

“I think I need to sit down,” Scully murmured.

 

Mulder nodded and relaxed his hold on Scully’s hand. She slipped her fingers out of his and turned away.  With a hand at the small of her back, he led her over to the table and then pulled her chair out for her so she could sit.  The bruschetta was there waiting for them.

 

Scully took a long pull from her wine glass, avoiding Mulder’s gaze.  This thing between them had an intensity that had never existed in any relationship she’d been in. It shouldn’t surprise her, given the passion Mulder applied to the work, but it was different when it was directed towards her.  When he spoke to her like that, it was as if every cell in her body was drawn to him by an irresistible magnetic pull.  She wondered how she’d gone so long with him before feeling like this.  What switch had been flicked in her brain?

 

“Quarter for your thoughts?” Mulder asked.

 

“A whole quarter?” Scully lifted her brow.

 

“Adjusting for inflation.  A penny’s rather insulting nowadays, isn’t it?”

 

“I suppose so.”

 

When Scully didn’t say anything further, Mulder leaned back and put his hand into his pocket.  “I think I only have a dime and maybe a few pennies,” he said. “Do you accept credit?”

 

Scully smiled a little and ran a finger around the rim of her wine glass.  “I was thinking about St. Barts.”

 

“What were you thinking about it?

 

“I was thinking that a month is a very long time.”

 

“Well, a wise woman once told me that patience is a virtue.”

 

“She may have been wrong.”

 

“I don’t think she was.”

 

Scully sighed and then she reached for a piece of bruschetta.  “Next time you go to the gunmen’s place, take me with you.”

 

“What for?”

 

“I might need some video game recommendations.”

 

**March 15, 2000 5:59 p.m.**

 

The silence was killing Scully. It had been a silent ride to Mulder’s apartment and the silence continued as she followed him inside. For the next twenty minutes, silence filled every corner and shadow of the apartment as Mulder sprawled on the couch with his head tipped against the back, eyes closed, and Scully sat in the chair at his desk, waiting for him to say something.

 

“Talk to me,” Scully said.

 

“What do you want me to say?”

 

“I want you to tell me what you’re thinking.”

 

“As Shakespeare said, beware the ides of March.”

 

Scully turned away and her eyes filled with tears.

 

“Et tu, Brute?” Mulder asked.

 

Scully sucked in a breath and bit her lip. The top of her nose tingled with the urge to cry and she fought it away, swallowing it all back. “Is that what you think of me?” she asked.

 

“It’s hard to know what to think, really.”

 

“I didn’t do anything you yourself haven’t done a hundred times over.”

 

Mulder opened his eyes then and blinked up at the ceiling.  “And you wanted to even the score?”

 

“No!”  Scully blew out an exasperated puff of air.  “I thought he was telling the truth.  God dammit, Mulder, you’ve gone out on more of a limb for less.”

 

“You know everything out of that black-lunged son of a bitch’s mouth is a lie.”

 

“Except when it’s you that believes him?”

 

Mulder pitched his body forward and put his head down by his knees.  With his elbows on his thighs, he linked his fingers together at the back of his neck. “I don’t want to argue with you,” he said.

 

“Mulder, please,” Scully whispered, sliding out of the chair and to her knees before him.  She leaned her cheek against the back of his lowered head and held on to his arms. “I know I scared you and I’m sorry.”

 

“You lied to me.”  Mulder lifted his head and grabbed Scully’s face. His breath kissed her lips, but there was no pleasure in it.  Only the pain in his eyes.  “You were gone for three days and you lied to me.”

 

“I didn’t want to.”

 

“I didn’t know where you were.”

 

“I can’t say anything other than I did what I thought was necessary.”

 

“I want you to tell me that you’ll never do it again, but I know that I can’t ask you to do something like that.”

 

“No, you can’t.”

 

“I think we should postpone St. Barts.”

 

“Mulder.”  Scully sat back on her heels, shaking her head with an open mouth. “Why?”

 

“I don’t think it’s such a good idea anymore.”

 

Scully’s mouth became a thin line and her nostrils flared slightly.  “So that’s it? You want to walk away because I made a choice you don’t agree with?”

 

“I didn’t say cancel, I said postpone.”

 

“It implies a lot.”

 

“It implies I think we should postpone.”

 

“One mistake and you don’t want me?”

 

“Don’t want you?” Mulder managed a laugh that was completely devoid of amusement.  “If I’d fucked you when I had the chance last month, there’d be nothing stopping me from laying you out on this table right now.”

 

Scully’s eyes blazed with anger. She saw red.  Angrily, she yanked at her blazer, ripping it off her arms and hurling it so hard against the wall it sounded like the buttons cracked. The sound would’ve been more satisfying if it was her hand across Mulder’s cheek.

 

“Well come on,” she said, yanking on Mulder’s arms as she skittered backwards towards the coffee table.  She let go of him to sweep her hand across the table and knock the stack of magazines to the floor in all directions.

 

“Scully, stop.”  Mulder got down on his knees and pulled on her elbow, trying to get her away from the table.

 

“I think you mean don’t stop.”

 

“No, I definitely mean stop.”

 

“But we have fucked before, so what’s the problem?”

 

Scully jerked her arm out of Mulder’s grasp and pulled her turtleneck up and over her head.  She rolled onto the table on her back and lifted her feet up. The heels of her boots bit into the edge of the table and she spread her knees apart, opening herself to Mulder, who had scrambled to his feet.  She started to work on the button of her pants as Mulder was removing his grey t-shirt and then suddenly, he jerked her upright so she was sitting at the edge of the table and he quickly pulled his shirt down over her head and arms.

 

“Stop,” he implored, voice strained and quiet. “Stop, Scully, please stop.” He gathered her up against his chest and she could feel his heart beating furiously against her breast.

 

With a little wiggling, Scully managed to work her hands through the arms of Mulder’s t-shirt and she wrapped her arms around his neck.  She couldn’t hold in her tears any longer and she cried against his shoulder, holding him just as tightly to her as he held her.

 

“I’m sorry,” Mulder murmured into her ear, over and over.  “I’m sorry.”

 

Fairly quickly, Scully stopped her crying. Mulder let go of her with one arm to stretch towards the desk behind them and grab a box of tissues. He wiped her face and her nose and let her take over with a handful of the Kleenex as he rubbed her back.

 

“I’m so embarrassed,” Scully whispered.

 

“Why?”

 

“I was out of control.  I…”

 

“And I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

 

Scully shrugged.  “If that’s how you feel about it.”

 

“It is and it isn’t.”  Mulder sighed and moved up so he was sitting on the couch. He dragged the coffee table closer, Scully and all, and leaned forward, resting his hands on her thighs. “If we’d moved into a physical relationship prior to this, we’d probably be having some pretty amazing make-up sex right now.  Which is what I so eloquently failed to say due to anger and just being an all-around asshole.”

 

“I can’t exactly let you take all the blame here.”

 

“Yeah, you started it.”  Mulder gave Scully’s knee a little shake and sat back, running his hand over the empty space next to him on the couch.  Scully turned and moved from the table to the couch, perching nervously on the edge.  “This is why we need to postpone St. Barts,” he said.

 

Scully was aware of her rigid posture and the amount of space she’d put between herself and Mulder.  She relaxed her shoulders and dropped her head.

 

“When you came up with it, I thought it was a good idea,” Mulder said.  “Getting away, going away, just us on an island, nothing to come between us. I thought, well that will certainly make it hard to run away.  Because the biggest thing that’s held me back from moving forward is the fear that you won’t be there in the morning.”

 

“I understand why you might feel that way.”

 

“I don’t want to cancel.  I just think that, now that I’ve given it more consideration, I’d like to wake up with you because you want to be there, not because there’s nowhere to run away to.”

 

Scully slowly slid back and moved closer to Mulder, until she was resting against his side and his arm was around her shoulders. “I’ll get there,” she said.

 

“I know you will.”

 

“I can’t promise I won’t scare you again, but I do promise I won’t ever lie to you again.”

 

Mulder put his hand up to Scully’s face and kissed the side of her head.  “I’m sorry that disc was empty.  I wish that for once he had been telling the truth.”

 

“What do we do about next week?”

 

“Maybe we should take some time to miss each other.”

 

“Spend it apart?”

 

“Check in from time to time.  You do have to make sure I stay out of trouble after all. Or maybe I should be making sure you’re staying out of trouble.”

 

“Too soon,” Scully whispered, turning her face up to Mulder.  She touched his cheek briefly and when she moved her hand down to his shoulder and chest, remembered that he’d given her his shirt. 

 

“Should we kiss and make up now?”

 

“Yeah, we should.”


	5. Chapter 5

**April 9, 2000 8:15 p.m.**

 

Mulder quietly collected the empty mugs of tea from the coffee table and brought them into the kitchen.  He washed the cups and spoons and tossed out the tea bags and wiped down the counter trying to make as little noise as possible. When he returned to the living room, Scully was just as he left her, sleeping peacefully with her head turned towards the inside of the couch, his Navajo blanket spread over her.

 

Treading lightly, Mulder entered his room and turned the bedside lamp on.  It was just beginning to rain outside and the room was muggy.  He closed the windows and turned the ceiling fan on low. The bed was unmade and the sheets were wrinkled.  His goose-down comforter was in a heap.  Taking clean sheets from his linen closet, he re-made the bed and turned down the comforter, making it more presentable.

 

Back in the living room, Mulder eased the blanket up and off of Scully, folding it once and putting it on the empty side. Very gently, he bent down and slipped his arm under Scully’s knees as the other arm slid behind her back. As cautious as he tried to be, Scully gave a startled jerk as he lifted her from the couch and into his arms. Disoriented, she immediately clutched his shoulders.

 

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” Mulder whispered.

 

Scully’s eyes rolled open.  “Mulder?”

 

“I made the bed up for you,” he said, turning to ease through the doorway, mindful of her head rolling off his shoulder. “And now I’m providing door to door service.  Or, couch to bed, if you want to be technical.”

 

Mulder eased Scully down onto the bed and slipped his arms free from under her.  Scully loosened her grip from around Mulder’s neck only a little, not enough for him to pull away so he stayed bent over her, hands pressed to the bed on either side of her sides.

 

“Stay,” Scully said, blinking slowly up at him as though she was looking out from a dream.

 

“You want me to read you a bedtime story?” Mulder chuckled lightly and crossed over her to lie down on his side, propped up on his elbow and holding his head.  “Apparently my voice puts you to sleep now.”

 

Scully rolled towards him and burrowed her face into his neck.  She worked her arm under his to lie across his back and then she breathed deeply. “I’m not tired anymore,” she murmured, caressing the side of his neck with the tip of her nose.

 

“You want to braid each others’ hair and paint our toenails?” he said, voice squeaking slightly and betraying his cool.

 

Scully moved her head back and gazed at Mulder. She moved her hand from his back and touched his face, starting with the line above his brow, to his cheek and along his jaw, over to his lips.  “You’re right,” she whispered.  “Everything has led to this moment.”

 

Mulder bent his head and kissed her as her fingers slipped through his hair to pull him closer.  There was no second-guessing or hesitating anymore. He wanted her and she wanted him. His hands roamed freely, as did hers. He felt Scully’s touch in every nerve ending of his body.  She was hindered by her blazer and her skirt, wiggling and shifting in frustration against him, which he found enticing, but her struggle made him laugh.

 

“’s’not funny,” Scully chastised, scraping her teeth against his chin.

 

“You’re like a worm,” he answered, sliding his hand up the back of her blazer and tickling her side.  “A sexy little worm.”

 

“Really, Mulder?  A worm?”

 

“I said a sexy worm.”

 

“Surprisingly, I don’t find that very complimentary.”

 

“Oh, but of all the sexy little worms out there, you’re the sexiest.”

 

Scully snorted and he peppered her face with kisses until she grabbed back onto his head and enticed his mouth back to hers. Still kissing him, Scully pushed him onto his back and got to her hands and knees.  She sat back and urged Mulder to sit up so she could pull his sweater off and then she wiggled out of her blazer.  Her sweater was the next to go and then she backed off the bed.

 

Turning to the side, Scully glanced down at her hip and then at Mulder.  “Unzip me,” she said, working at the clasp of her watch.  Mulder was almost too busy admiring the black silk bra she wore to respond. He slowly slid closer to the edge of the bed and drew the zipper down on the side of her skirt while she dropped her watch onto his nightstand.

 

Before she went any further undressing, Mulder grabbed her hips and brought her closer so that her knees hit the bed and she stood between his legs.  He looked up at her, reverently, because he felt very reverent in that moment. She smiled at him and held his face, tracing the shell of his ears with her thumbs.

 

“I love you, Scully,” Mulder said.

 

“I know, Mulder.  I love you too.”

 

Mulder leaned in and kissed her sternum, moving down to her abdomen while she wiggled out of her skirt.  “Unfortunately there’s no appealing way to remove pantyhose,” she said, rolling the hose down and kicking them off her feet.

 

“You’re so beautiful.”

 

“Shut up, Mulder,” Scully said, blushing.

 

Mulder wrapped his arms around her and flopped back, taking her with him so she was lying on his chest.  He rolled and then they were both on their sides, lying almost diagonally across the bed.  He kissed her eyes closed and then moved over her, falling into the inviting vee of her parted legs as she shifted to her back.  She held his hips with her thighs and explored the expanse of his back with light caresses.  He couldn’t help but rock against her, the tightness in his jeans becoming almost unbearable.

 

Scully moaned and pressed her heels into the back of Mulder’s thighs.  He pulled away from her, bending his back and bringing his mouth down her chest and stomach. His hands followed, moving from shoulders to breasts, squeezing her through her bra.  If he had one goal it would be to kiss every square inch of her body.

 

“Take your pants off,” Scully said. “I want to see you.”

 

Scully’s voice hit Mulder straight in the groin. He ached for her, painfully. With a groan, he rolled onto his back and began the task of unbuttoning his pants and easing them down his hips. Scully was propped up on her elbow next to him, her hands behind her back to unhook her bra. Within the next ten seconds, they were both naked, facing each other.  Now, Mulder was propped up on his elbow and Scully was resting her head on his pillow. Her eyes drifted down and Mulder watched her face.  She swallowed and bit her lip and then Mulder touched her chin, bringing her face up. Her eyes were wet.

 

“What’s wrong?” Mulder asked.

 

“Nothing.”  Scully shook her head.  “Just wishing I’d appreciated you more…the last time.”

 

“There was no last time, okay? It’s just us and it’s new and scary and wonderful.”

 

Scully nodded.  “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

 

“I know.”

 

Mulder kissed her and she reached for him, learning how he felt in her hand.  After a few tentative strokes, Mulder covered her hand with his and adjusted her grip to show her how he liked it.  She soon had him panting against her cheek, but he wasn’t interested in finishing this way. He wanted to be in her and look into her eyes and know she was with him.

 

“Scully,” he breathed.  “I need you.”

 

“I need you too.”

 

Mulder hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her over him as he rolled onto his back.  She straddled him with her knees folded along his sides and lifted her hips to guide him to her.  When she relaxed and sank down, they both groaned in pleasure.  She pressed her hands to his shoulders for balance, head hanging low.  Mulder held her hips, guiding her into a rhythm they could both enjoy and sustain.

 

Beads of sweat gathered at Mulder’s temples. Eventually, Scully’s hands slipped from his slick shoulder and crashed to the bed.  Her breasts were crushed by his chest, the muscles in her arms too weak to lift herself back up.  Mulder sat up with her in his lap and they picked up with a new rhythm. Scully had her arms wrapped tightly around Mulder’s head and shoulders, her own head thrown back and mouth open as though in deep concentration.  She began to make soft whimpering noises and a drop of saliva rolled from her bottom lip down her chin.  Mulder licked it off. He was so close he felt like he was in danger of catching fire and he wanted her attention.

 

“Look at me,” Mulder said.

 

“Can…can’t,” Scully panted.

 

“Look at me.”  Mulder grabbed her face and directed her gaze to him.  Her eyes were thin slits, barely open.  “You’re fucking incredible.”

 

Scully’s eyelids fluttered and twitched. Her nails dug into Mulder’s scalp and shoulder, leaving painful impressions of crescent moons in his skin. She shuddered against him and he groaned her name, falling forward with her still holding tight. His heart hammered wildly in countertime to the rapid thumping that emanated from Scully’s chest. He felt euphoric with love for her in that moment and he kissed her face and neck and chest and shoulder and ear and lips and closed eyelid, everywhere he could reach without letting go of her.

 

Scully giggled and turned her face away after Mulder didn’t let up.  “I feel like I’m in bed with an overly exuberant puppy,” she said.

 

“Woof,” he answered, nuzzling the top of her breast.

 

“We need to…”

 

“I know.”  Mulder sighed as he pulled up and away from her.  “Save my place, okay?”

 

“Go fetch.”

 

Mulder went into the bathroom to get a towel to clean up.  He looked at himself in the mirror, at his wild, sweaty hair and his heated cheeks.  He smiled at himself and the smile turned into a grin. Behind him, in the reflection of the mirror, he saw Scully scooting back and arranging the pillows at the head of his bed as though she intended to stay.  His smile grew and tears stung his eyes.  He washed them away with a splash of water to his face and then he brought Scully a towel and flopped down beside her.

 

“I’ll be right back,” she said, taking the towel, but heading into the bathroom and shutting the door. He watched her go, admiring the sway of her naked hips before he crossed his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling fan.  Now that he wasn’t exerting himself, it was quite cool in the room and he adjusted the bedclothes so that they’d be comfortable.

 

Scully came out of the bathroom wearing one of Mulder’s shirts that he’d dropped on top of the hamper earlier. He smiled at her and lifted back the comforter to invite her in.  She slipped in beside him and put her arm across his stomach while laying her head in the crook of his shoulder.  She yawned. Mulder leaned over and turned out the lamp.

 

“Ready for your bedtime story now?” Mulder asked.

 

“Tell me the story about the two FBI agents who got everything they always wanted,” she said, her voice tinged with a sleepy haze of affection.

 

“Do I know that one?” he asked.

 

“You better.”

 

“Once upon a time,” he started, “there was a girl-“ he yelped when Scully pinched his nipple. “A _woman_ named Special Agent Red Riding Hood.”

 

Scully chuckled and rubbed her nose into Mulder’s chest.

 

“Agent Red for short,” he continued. “One day, Agent Red went out for a nice trip through the forest to pick flowers, but she was distracted hunting mothmen instead and got a little lost.”

 

“Doesn’t sound very in character for Agent Red.”

 

“Shhh…I’m telling a story.”  Mulder squeezed Scully’s shoulder and then picked up the hand across his stomach to play with her fingers.  “Suddenly, Agent Red came upon a house made of non-fat Tofutti rice dreamsicles while trying to find her way out and she thought oh, I could live here, so she went inside and found three bedrooms, all with walk-in closets for her many Donna Karan shoes and riding hoods, and three bathrooms, and a really lovely eat-in kitchen with a refrigerator full of yogurt and bee pollen.”

 

Scully smiled and entwined her fingers into Mulder’s, bringing them up to rest on his chest.

 

“Agent Red was very tired from hunting mothmen all day, so she went to the first bedroom to lie down.  The bedroom itself was very nice, decorated in antiques and expensive carpets, and she liked that, but it was dark and depressing in the room and she couldn’t get comfortable.  This bed is too…old, she complained.”

 

Scully lifted her head from Mulder’s chest and tried to see his face, but it was too dark.  Mulder squeezed her shoulder again and she lied back down.

 

“So, Agent Red went to the next bedroom and it looked pretty nice going in.  There were books on the shelves and fishing gear in the corner and she thought, I like to read and I like to fish, maybe I could live here.  She lied down in the bed and she couldn’t get comfortable there either.  This bed is too rough, she thought.”

 

Scully frowned a little and knitted her brows.

 

“Agent Red opened the next door and closed it immediately,” Mulder continued.  “This bed is too dangerous, she thought.”

 

“There aren’t any rooms left,” Scully said.

 

“I know.  So, with no rooms left, and still very tired, Agent Red went back outside and this time, found a small, lonely log cabin with a very nice, very soft leather couch against one wall.  She curled up and thought, this bed is just right, and she fell asleep.”

 

“The end?” Scully asked.

 

“No.  No, back at the first house, a wolf came home.  Someone’s been sleeping in my bed, said the wolf, and the impression will never go away, no matter what I do.  The wolf was angry and sad.  Then, a bear came home and said, someone’s been sleeping in my bed and messed with my things, which I don’t like very much.  And the bear was pretty angry as well.  Then a snake came home and said, if someone tried to sleep in my bed, I would swallow her whole.”

 

“This is kind of a depressing story, Mulder.”

 

“It gets better,” Mulder said. “Back in the lonely log cabin, a fox came home.  He saw Agent Red sleeping on his couch and at first he thought, who is this stranger that’s broken into my home?  How did she get here? Why is she here? Should I trust her? He waited and when Agent Red woke up, he growled and he hissed at her, but she wasn’t afraid of him. She scratched his ears and cleaned all the wounds he had from just being a fox in the woods and then the fox thought, this woman is more precious to me than life itself.  What did I do to deserve to come home to this? My little log cabin doesn’t seem so lonely anymore.”

 

“Mulder.”  Scully lifted her head again and felt him brush her cheek with the back of his knuckles.

 

“And then they lived happily ever after, with the occasional argument about the plausibility of spontaneous human combustion or if vampires are people too, normal every day sort of disagreements. And the world didn’t end.”

 

Scully turned her head and kissed Mulder’s hand.

 

“What do you want for breakfast, Scully?”

 

“Whatever you’re having,” she answered, laying her head back down and closing her eyes.

 

**April 10, 2000 4:08 a.m.**

What am I doing? Scully thought. Don’t do this.

 

Last night had been perfect.  They had worked towards it for a year, enduring lots of bumps along the way, and it was everything it should have been a year ago. And now she was running out the door.

 

As she was falling asleep, hypnotized by the way Mulder stroked and twirled her hair around his fingers, the rain outside, and the soft click and whir of the ceiling fan.  He whispered her name in the dark.  She was too tired to answer, too lethargic to move her lips.

 

“I want us to try again,” Mulder whispered, and his hand stilled on her head.

 

Scully was slow to catch his meaning, but then it came to her in a rush.  She felt instantly hot and sick, but kept as still as the dead until she felt Mulder relax and slip into sleep under her and she rolled away.  She lay awake for hours, staring at trees that danced in the wind and knocked lightly against the windows.  When she couldn’t take it anymore, and the rain had died, she got up and gathered her clothes from around the room, half-dressing in the dark before finishing in the bathroom.

 

She stared at Mulder, sleeping so peacefully, unaware that she was about to break his heart yet again.  You want too much, Mulder.  I don’t know if I can give it to you.

 

Scully banged her head against the wall of the hallway. Fucking coward. What’s wrong with you?

 

Angry with herself, Scully marched to the elevator and stabbed the call button with her index finger.  As the doors opened, she deflated, hanging her head with her shoulders slumped forward.  You can’t do this to him.  Not again.

 

Scully turned around and went back into Mulder’s apartment.  She removed her shoes and left them by the door.  She removed her blazer and hung it on the coatrack as she passed. She removed her sweater and tossed it onto the floor of his bedroom as she crossed the threshold. She lowered her skirt and stepped out of it at the foot of the bed.  She hadn’t bothered with the nylons that morning, so all that was left was her bra and panties.  The lingerie was the next to go and she opened the sheets and lay herself down on top of Mulder’s body.

 

Mulder shifted, breathing deeply and turning his head while he stretched.  He opened his eyes at her and closed them again, rolling so that he could put his arm around her and she snuggled into his chest with a sigh.

 

“Hey,” Mulder said, voice gravelly and sleepy.

 

“Hey,” she answered.

 

“You’re in your birthday suit,” he said, pinching one of her butt cheeks as his hand moved over her body.

 

“Nothing gets by you, Agent Mulder.”

 

“Mm.”  Mulder breathed her in and sighed.  He had no idea how close he had been to waking alone.  He was almost asleep again.

 

“Mulder?”

 

“Hm?”

 

Scully sat up, her hands on Mulder’s chest and her knees squeezing his ribs.  Mulder sleepily rubbed the tops of her thighs and then reached up as she lowered her head closer to him until her nose touched his.  His fingers scratched through the hair at the back of her neck and she heard Karen’s voice in her head.  _You’ve expressed some anxiety about exposing your vulnerabilities to your partner_.  _Sharing things often brings people closer together._

 

“I’m happy,” Scully said, surprised at how deeply she meant it after the words left her mouth.

 

Mulder smiled and then pursed his lips, giving her a small kiss on her lower lip.  “Me too.”

 

“Last night I prayed for a miracle,” she whispered.

 

“I did too, Scully.  I have been for a year.”

 

Scully laid herself down on his chest. She closed her eyes and sighed as Mulder’s arms came around her, holding her to him.  It was too early to be awake and she didn’t have anywhere to be, but right where she was.

 

The End


End file.
